


Muse - Art

by Pho3nixqu33n



Series: Muse [1]
Category: Californication (TV), The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, Artist Clarke Griffin, Bisexual Female Character, Californication Meets Clexa, Character Development, Clexa, Drama & Romance, F/F, Family Dynamics, Female Relationships, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Incredibly flawed characters, Lovable Asshole Lexa, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Slow Build, Writer Lexa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-04-06 13:58:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 63,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14058471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pho3nixqu33n/pseuds/Pho3nixqu33n
Summary: Lexa, a once prolific author turned alcoholic and sex addict, leads a reckless life without purpose. She's inspired to make changes when she unexpectedly reunites with the love of her life. Can she get her shit together for her happy ending?





	1. Penelope

_“What are you doing?”_  
_“Enjoying the view.”_  
_“You’re thinking too hard for that. What’s on your mind?” The naked woman wraps a white sarong around her body and walks towards the bronze skinned, topless brunette with a toned gleaming torso wearing a tight, black, boy shorts. Both just rinsed off with hair still wet._  
_“Are you Circe or Penelope?”_  
_“I’m Clarke. Don’t turn me into an archetype.”_  
_“We’re all archetypes.”_  
_“To you maybe.” The dark-haired woman guides the blonde’s arms around her neck as she straddles the topless woman’s waist._  
_“You’re right. You’re Calypso.”_  
_“How do you know that I’m not Ulysses?” The blue-eyed woman asks seductively in low voice as she looks deep into her lover’s dark green eyes._  
_“I’m the writer.”_  
_“So you think…” the blonde responds in an even deeper tone before going in for a soft sensual kiss._  
_“I like that you question my ideas.”_  
_“I like that you have ideas.”_  
_“That’s all I have.” The brunette pulls her even closer with her hands running up and down her back._  
_“It’s nice to see the world through your eyes.” She responds caressing her cheeks. She ghosts her fingers across her lips before brushing her own against them._  
_“Careful.” She whispers. “It’s not easy to untangle once you get caught in this web of fiction.”_  
_“You must know of a trick.” Clarke says as the caramel skinned woman lays her on her back and positions herself on top. Her long dark hair falls before her lover who combs it to one side with her hand. Clarke sees the most beautiful woman she’s ever laid eyes on. ___  
_“I’m stuck.” ___  
_“Let me help you” the blonde pleads. She doesn’t take her eyes off of her jade orbs that gleamed like glass._  
_“Clarke, I’m…” She’s overwhelmed with emotions that she contains by closing her eyes and rolling to her side. ___  
_“What’s wrong?” ___  
_“I’m- I think, I’m falling for you.” Clarke interlaces her fingers with her lover’s and smiles, knowing how hard it is for her to communicate her emotions directly. ___  
_“Lexa, close your eyes, trust me.” ___  
_“I don’t do that well.” ___  
“Even Ulysses had help.” She earns a grin from the brunette. __  
_“Ok” She says, slowly closing her eyes watching the sea fade into sky before darkness. She falls into Clarke as lips and tongues collide and bodies entangle. Somehow, she remembered to breathe. Maybe she could do this._

__

_____ _

__

_____ _

_____ _

8 years later

“Clarke!” the short dark-haired girl calls as the blonde approaches her table of young, beautiful women.  
“Hey babe!” She gives her a big hug, ecstatic to see her friend. She was in town for the weekend to see her family, consisting of her mother, closest friends from high school and college.  
“I’m so glad you’re here. You have to meet everyone” the spunky brunette introduces her to the table of unfamiliar faces. “Everyone, this is Clarke, my maid of honor!” The young millennial looking group welcomed her with a combination of indifference and superficial friendliness that amused the woman in her mid-thirties.  
“Hi” She says with a smile. She wondered where Raven was? She could use a familiar face right about now. “Where’s Rae? I thought she would be here by now?”  
“She’ll be here with her girl.”  
“Right. I’m meeting everyone tonight.” Clarke has been away for many years and just recently moved back to the states. She hasn’t had time to come home or to really get caught up with her people’s lives.  
“Speaking of which, you need to meet Lincoln. Come on!” The younger girl takes her friend’s hand and pulls her across the restaurant towards her fiancé standing by the bar with his best friends. Clarke allows the shorter woman to drag her to meet her fiancé.  
“Hey, Linc. This is my best friend.” The solid, dark skinned man was genuinely happy to meet the blonde.  
“So good to finally meet you! Welcome home, Clarke!” He gives her a big hug knowing exactly who she was from pictures and Clarke immediately feels at ease.  
“Sweet and handsome. You did alright, O” He smiles at having earned her approval.  
“Clarke, this is Lincoln’s best friend, Nyko.” She shakes the man’s hand who resembled a hipster/lumberjack with his sizeable beard and flannel shirt. He had kind eyes and gentle presence that lead Clarke to believe that he had studied the humanities, philosophy perhaps. The artist could sense these things.  
“A pleasure.” He says politely.  
“Likewise, I guess we’ll be spending some time together, best man.” She says, ready to bond with the gentle soul.  
“Oh no.” O corrects. “Linc’s sister is his best man. Where is she? She was just here.” They look around for her.  
“She’s occupied.” Nyko says pointing in the direction of the bar. Lincoln rolls his eyes. Clarke sees a woman distracted by a flirty bartender who wasn’t too busy for the woman wearing a leather jacket. 

“As always” he comments unfazed. “Heda!” he calls putting his arms on her shoulders.  
“This better be good” she says under her breath to her younger brother.  
“Dear sister, meet O’s best friend and maid of honor.” He says gripping her shoulder to emphasize the importance of the meeting.  
“Ouch! Ok, ok.” She turns around to engage with the group hearing O introduce her.  
“This is the elusive-” but before she could finish, Lexa sees the woman that made her question everything and had once convinced her that maybe, she could be happy.  
“Clarke?” The blonde’s only response she could process was a reflex, an act she’s imagined an infinite amount of times but never believed she would perform. 

She slaps Lexa across the face and without saying a word walks away. She’s unable to think, let alone begin to process the multitude of emotions erupting from her core. Everyone was in shock, Nyko’s mouth dropped open and some people around turned to witness the act. 

“What the hell was that, Heda?” Lincoln asks already assuming the worst with his sister, who’s infamous for fooling around.  
“Shit! Clarke, wait!” She goes after her, rubbing her cheek with her hand. It was still tingling, it would leave a mark. It meant something, it was certainly a statement and Lexa knew she deserved every bit of it. She runs after her and catches up grabbing her wrist to slow her down. “Clarke!”  
“Don’t touch me!” She pulls her arm away with a violence that shook the brunette. “You don’t get to touch me! Do you understand?” Lexa was terrified by the intensity of her tone and the rage directed towards her. The blonde’s eyes were grey, a storm approaching the shore, a sight to behold.  
“I’m sorry. You’re right.” She says as almost a whisper. Clarke continues to walk with nowhere to go and Lexa doesn’t know what to do. “Clarke, we have to talk.” She says regretting it as soon as it leaves her mouth.  
_“We don’t have to do anything.”_  
“You can’t avoid me forever.”  
“I can try.” The brunette is out of ideas and out of desperation tries a new approach.  
“For Octavia, not for me.” The blonde stops without turning around. She knows she’s right.  
“Not right now.”  
“Ok. When?”  
“I don’t know. I can’t be around you.” It cuts deep but Lexa knows she deserves worse.  
“Ok.” With that, Clarke walks away leaving Lexa with her guilt and pain. The blonde was overwhelmed, and emotions were pulling her from all directions. She needed to calm down and come back to Earth and view the situation for what it was… her chance for closure. 

__

***  
“Heda, what the fuck?”  
“I know. I fucked it up. Your yelling doesn’t help.”  
“Another pissed one-night stand?” Anya asks with indifference as she joins them at the bar.  
“Not exactly.” Lexa responds unamused by their accusations as she downs another glass of whiskey.  
“Except this time, it’s with O’s best friend.”  
“Woah! How did you pull that off? She lives in New York!” Anya asks impressed and trying not to laugh as Lincoln glares at her.  
“Fuck off! You’re supposed to be my people.” The writer was not in the mood, already upset about Clarke and on her way to her fourth shot. They realized that this wasn’t just another fling. Flings don’t affect the emotionally devoid Lexa that they knew.  
“Lex, are you ok?” Anya asks, now concerned for her friend.  
“I just never thought I would see her again.”  
“Who?” her brother asks.  
“My muse.” The two look at each other in disbelief.  
The one that she abandoned, the inspiration for Lexa’s masterpiece and the last thing she’s written in 6 years. She’s also the one person that Lexa wanted to spend the rest of her life loving. At least this is what they assume from reading her book. The writer was not exactly open about her emotions, she pours it out in her writing.  
“Shit, I had no idea.” Lincoln says putting his hand on her shoulder to show his support.  
“This could be a good thing.” Anya points out in attempts to remain positive. It’s her job to keep her client and best friend from hitting complete rock bottom. “This is your second chance at happiness.”  
“She won’t even talk to me.”  
“Give her time.”  
“Yeah, I’ll talk to O. Eventually the two of you have to work it out.” Lexa knew her brother was right, and it gave her a dash of hope. There were others involved in this drama, so she would need to make sure not to fuck it up, again. She owed Clarke at the very least the truth. And there is nothing that will stop her from setting things right. Maybe Anya’s right, maybe this was her second chance. 

***  
“Oh my God! You’re Penelope!” The Latina exclaims in disbelief.  
“What?”  
“You’re the woman that turned Heda’s world around.” Clarke and Octavia look to each other completely lost.  
“Her muse that lead to a Pulitzer Prize in literature?” Both women stare at her blankly. “Jesus, you people need to pick up a book every now and then.” She walks to her shelf and pulls out Lexa’s book and throws it at Clarke.  
“Penelope” the blonde reads out loud. “What the fuck?”  
“She wrote a book about you.” The woman holding the book didn’t know how to feel. She looks to Octavia. “Did you read it?”  
“I was waiting for the movie” she responds shrugging her shoulders innocently.  
“What?!” the blonde barks.  
“Anya’s been trying to get her to do a movie, but she refuses to sell out.” Raven explains.  
“Yeah, but Linc told me that she’s running out of funds. She kind of has a hard time finishing jobs these days.” The younger girl counters. 

Meanwhile, their friend was fuming as she took in the information. She felt vulnerable and used, but mostly she was just irate. _Fucking asshole. _After skimming through the pages of the hefty text, she reads the summary.__

____

“That fucking asshole!”  
“Clarke, calm down. Read it. It’s not as bad as you think” the Latina insists.  
“She’s going to be family soon.”  
_“Your _family, not mine.”__  
“You are my family, Clarke. I have your back, but please can you make it work for the wedding?” Clarke sees her friend’s genuine fear of everything falling apart. Of course, she would figure it out for the wedding, for O.  
“Ok, for you, but I need time.”  
“I’ll tell her. We have the dinner with our families in two days.”  
“Fine, in the meantime, I don't want to see her.”


	2. Family

“Fucking asshole!” Clarke slams the book shut and launches it across the room. “She left me to write this, really, really, good novel!” She continues her rant as she gets out of bed and rummages through her suitcase for clothes. “Why did I have to ever meet that narcissist? Now, I’m her Penelope? I am not her fucking Penelope!” She makes her way to the kitchen to boil some water when she hears a knock at the door. She assumes it’s Raven and is more than ready to talk shit. “Perfect ti-” She opens the door and there, low and behold, Ulysses herself.

“Heeeey, Clarke.” Lexa says holding a smile to lighten the unwanted and unexpected visit.  
“I thought I made it clear that I didn’t want to see you.” She lets the door close on her and walks away, but not without looking her once over in her usual dark jeans and black t-shirt with the sleeves and collar ripped off to showcase her tribal tattoos covering her left arm. She had her long messy dark hair fall down the right side of her face revealing her undercut. Lexa pushes it open and lets herself in. 

“I respected your wishes, but we have dinner tonight and-”  
“I know what tonight is.” She interrupts.  
“You’re angry, Clarke.”  
“That’s an understatement.”  
“You can’t hate me forever.”  
“We’ll see about that.” Clarke wonders who she thinks she is. Telling her how long she can hate anyone.  
“Clarke, Lincoln’s my brother and my job is to assure his happ-” Clarke stops and turns to face the writer.  
“Save it. I know why you’re here.” She looks right at her never missing a step as she backs her into the wall. “Let’s just set things straight. I’m doing this for O, I promised I would make this work.” Lexa nods in agreement. “Also, I’m not your fucking Penelope. There are no second chances so don’t bother.”  
“Clarke, I just-”  
“When I’m ready to hear what you have to say, I’ll ask. Until then, we will be civil for the sake of this archaic union.” The laid back, witty writer was frozen. Clarke is the only person who makes it almost impossible for the writer to string words together to create a sentence.  
“I’m sorry.” She breathes. “I’m so sorry.” The brunette’s voice quivers and swallows hard as her eyes grow lighter. Clarke can’t help but feel for her as she looks into those glass eyes.  
“I’m not ready.” She has to fight herself in order to stand firm against the woman that she once loved. Lexa nods.  
“Ok. See you tonight.” The writer lets herself out. As soon as the door shuts, the blonde continues to hold off tears she’s held off all these years. Somehow, her anger evolved into sadness and it was becoming more difficult to keep them at bay. She needs to let go, to let her go. 

 

***  
“You know she’s all messed up because of you right?”  
“Oh please, she’s messed up because of her deeply seeded issue with her father.”  
“I guess you do know her.”  
“We lived together, Rae. We shared a life.” Her tone was serious and almost seemed like she looked back with fondness rather than regret.  
“So, that’s all true in the book?”  
“That novel is a distortion of our short-lived romance.”  
“So, when’s the sequel coming out?”  
“No sequel. This is where it ends. So I, we” she corrects, “can finally move on with our lives.”  
“Pretty nice that you get a chance at closure. Or…”  
“Or what?”  
“Nothing. I was just thinking.”  
“What?” the blonde presses.  
“What are the chances of her brother marrying O and her best friend dating me? Not to mention, you’re moving back home in a month.”  
“In this case, 100%.”  
“Don’t you think that maybe it’s meant to be?”  
“Maybe it is… so that I can get closure” Clarke reiterates.  
“Right, yeah. You’re right.” The Latina leaves it alone. 

 

***  
“How did it go?” The tall blonde woman asks as she gets dressed in her closet.  
“Well, she didn’t slap me.” Lexa replies in her carefree tone, hiding her pain behind her playful demeanor as she lays on her friend’s bed.  
“That’s promising.”  
“I don’t want to lose her again, An.”  
“She’s not yours to lose, Lex.”  
“I know, but I love her.”  
“You hurt her. Give her time and if you really love her, you’ll let her decide and respect her choice.”  
“Why did I abandon her?”  
“Are we still blaming your father for your commitment issues?”  
“I think so.”  
“You need to face all that, Lex. You’re nothing like him.”  
“Did you not just lecture me in your office about being a drunken fuck up?”  
“It’s my job to get work for you and I can’t do that when you’re passed out midday.”  
“My point exactly. I drink too much, fool around with women, and carelessly spend my money I earned from writing about my fucked-up life. Round and round I go.”  
“At least you got paid for it, something that hasn’t happened in a while” Her best friend was not at all joking with her comment.  
“At least.”  
“You like the narrative you’ve created, readers like it.”  
“That’s what I do.”  
“Just don’t forget that you’re more than your fictions.”  
“You’re my agent. You have to say these things, I pay your salary.” Anya walks out dressed in a formal dress that hugged her supermodel body in all the right places and sits next to her friend.  
“Lexa, you practically raised Lincoln and paid for his education. You donate regularly to charities anonymously and you got me my big break in the business. Why don’t you recognize that you’re not as messed up as the you want the world to believe?”  
“It’s not good writing material. It doesn’t sell.”  
“Since when do you care about the money?”  
“Good point. So wise.”  
“That’s why I make the big bucks.” The writer gives her best friend a hug and doesn’t immediately let go. She found comfort in Anya’s words, company and arms. She knows Lexa better than anyone and it gave her peace having that stability in her life.  
“Can I do this?” She asks doubting herself.  
“You can do anything.”  
“Love you, An.”  
“Love you too, Lex. Now, let’s get you cleaned up. I promised Lincoln you’d meet the dress code tonight.” The writer whines and grumbles in resistance.

 

***  
Clarke arrives early with Bellamy wearing a clean greyish blue A-line dress and nude sandal heels. She knew she looked good and she needed all the confidence to get through the evening. Having her tall, charming and handsome friend as her buffer didn’t hurt. She knows that Lexa and he don’t exactly get along. He’s always played the protective older brother for her since high school and was glad to help knowing how the writer messed up Clarke pretty bad. He made sure to check up on her more than the others seeing how she struggled when he lived with her for a few years in New York after Lexa abandoned her and before she moved to Europe. 

“I can’t believe that she’s the one you were shacked up with in New York.”  
“Small world, I guess.”  
“Well you already know how I feel about her.”  
“O mentioned it, but you never told me why” she says turning the radio down form the passenger seat.  
“She fucked my ex-girlfriend.” Clarke almost chokes on her own saliva. “If you didn’t know, she’s kind of a whore.” He had absolutely no remorse.  
“Jesus, Bell, she’s going to be your sister in-law.”  
“Doesn’t change what she is.” Clarke had an idea that she slept around, but she was never this close to the reality and she didn’t like the taste of those words.  
“When? Were you still with her at the time?”  
“About a month ago. We got into a fight she tells me she’s done and leaves. The next day I go to her place to try and reconcile and there she was, fucking-” Clarke cuts him off unable to stomach the image.  
“Ok, I got it. I’m sorry I asked. Did she know who she was?”  
“She claims she didn’t, but I don’t believe that asshole.”  
“I’m sorry, that sucks.” She pauses then continues with an after-thought. “Maybe she’s telling the truth.”  
“Are you kidding me?”  
“You’re right.” As much as Clarke wanted to hate on Lexa, she knows that she wouldn’t do things to deliberately hurt anyone, at least not the Lexa she knows.  
“I’m glad you’re here, Princess.”  
“Yeah, me too, Bell.”  
“I think we’re the only ones that don’t worship the ground that “Heda” walks on.”  
“Yeah, O and Rae are quite fond of her.”  
“We can see through her bullshit.” This was true, Clarke could, but she had a feeling that Bell was speaking from his bruised ego and for some absurd reason she wanted him to change his mind about her. She reprimands herself for caring as she’s got her own problems to deal with. 

Clarke settled in with a glass of red and caught up with Bellamy and Octavia's mom, Aurora, her mother, Abby and her boyfriend Cane. Soon after, a goliath of a man with a thick beard and long hair in a ponytail with tattoos visible on his neck walks in carrying a bouquet of flowers and bottle of wine. He was a good five inches taller than Lincoln and twice the size of O, who takes the bottle and bouquet from him before her fiancé gives the man in a leather jacket a substantial hug. Clarke then realizes who it is, the leather jacket, the undercut hairstyle, similar tribal tattoos, it was Lexa’s Uncle Gustus. 

“Who is that?” Abby asks with curiosity.  
“That must be Lincoln’s uncle, the one that that had legal custody of him after his mother passed” Aurora responds. “Shall we go introduce ourselves?” She asks as she stands to make her way over to him. Bellamy, Cane and Abby follow intrigued by the giant. Clarke stays with Nyko, hesitant to meet him.  
“He doesn’t bite.”  
“I know, I just-” she didn’t know how to respond.  
“You think he knows who you are?”  
“I don’t know, maybe.”  
“Whatever he knows, it can’t be bad.” Clarke found comfort in Nyko’s reasoning but before she could respond she hears Raven call out Abby’s name before they crash into one another. Anya gives Gustus a kiss and tender hug before making her rounds charming the new faces from O’s side of the family. 

As people make their way back to the sitting area she sees Lexa wearing tight charcoal jeans and a black button up collared shirt with sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Her hair was pulled back the same as her uncle’s. She was all smiles to see the burly Viking of a man as she jumps into his arms. He lifts her off the ground with ease holding on for a long playful embrace. Clarke couldn’t help but smile and feel a warmth at the sight knowing what he meant to Lexa. The two join the group and Clarke looks away and welcomes Bellamy’s protective arm around her.  
“How are you holding up?” He asks his friend.  
“I’m good.” She says smiling at him. Lexa doesn’t like what she sees and Gustus could feel it.  
“Easy tiger” he says under his breath as they walk. “This is Lincoln’s night.”  
“I’m good. I’ve got this” she assures.

Abby sees Lexa and the two make eye contact. The older woman can’t believe it and Lexa is completely thrown off. She turns to her daughter who was playing it cool ignoring her presence and distracting herself with Bellamy. Lexa freezes and makes a b-line for the kitchen where she pours herself a glass of whiskey or three. Anya notices and goes to check on her. Abby follows Clarke’s lead, understanding that this evening was about them trying to avoid a scene. Gustus shakes his head in amusement of his niece. 

“Uncle Gus, this is Clarke” O finally introduces him.  
“Clarke, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. You are more beautiful than I imagined.” He kisses her hand causing the blonde to blush.  
“Um, thank you. It’s nice to meet you too.” She’s self-conscious assuming that he knows everything, God knows what stories the writer has concocted.  
“I assure you, it’s all good” he says as if having read her mind. His warm gaze tranquilizes the blonde’s anxiety and she finds herself in a good place where she remains the rest of the evening. The same can’t be said for the writer. 

“Lexa, are you ok?” Anya asks  
“What the fuck is Clarke’s mom doing here?”  
“Um, she’s Aurora’s best friend, they raised their kids together. Kind of a sweet story, you know female friendship and all that.”  
“Sounds lovely, but why am I just learning all this now?”  
“What, did you fuck her too?” Lexa looks at her in all seriousness.  
“You’ve got a sick fucking mind you know that.” Her agent puts her arms up in defense.  
“What? I was just…” She realizes that she needed to just stop, seeing the fixed stare in her friend’s eyes.  
“I just need a minute. Go be useful and announce dinner or something, so I don’t have to make nice.” She pours herself her fourth that the blonde removes from her reach. “Hey, I had plans for that.” She whines.  
“Pace yourself, get some fresh air.” She waits until the writer steps out on the balcony overlooking the city lights before joining the rest. 

Lexa looks out into the distance after lighting a cigarette. She takes a long full hit followed by an equally sustained exhale. Smoke swirling in the cold night air as her thoughts drift.

 

_7ish years earlier_

____

 

 _“So, Lexa, Clarke tells me you recently published a book of poetry?” The doctor was curious to hear from the woman that her daughter was ridiculously sweet on. Clarke has never been this infatuated with anyone before._  
_“Yeah, it’s alright, I guess. Not exactly my genre” the writer says._  
_“Oh, come on. Stop being modest. Your poetry is great.” The blonde says admiring her girlfriend with her words and the sappiest heart eyes. Absolutely shameless even in front of her mother._  
_“Well, I’m impressed” Abby says watching the two interact. “I don’t have a creative bone in my body. Clarke gets it form her father.”_  
_“I don’t believe that. We all have it, latent deep inside” the writer urges, truly believing her words._  
_“Yeah, mom. What about your classical piano days.”_  
_“Oh, well, those days are long gone.” She stopped playing when Jake passed and hasn’t thought about it since. Clarke missed the music in the house and that part of her mom, who buried herself in work instead, specially after moving from DC to LA for a promotion as chief surgeon during Clarke’s first year of high school._  
_“I’m sure it’s still there, Abby” Lexa attests. ___  
_“Perhaps” she downs the rest of her wine. ___  
_“I’m going to get one more round” Clarke announces before kissing Lexa on the lips while smiling seductively at her. This left the brunette floating as she walks away. Abby brings her back to the ground with a serious tone.  
_

_“You make her extremely happy, Lexa. You have an artist’s soul like her father. I can see why Clarke loves you so much.”_  
_“Thank you, that’s nice to hear, Abby.”_  
_“She doesn’t fall for people like this, she’s a free spirit. But the way she looks at you, I’ve never seen before” The writer wasn’t sure where she was going._  
_“I can assure you, it’s mutual.” The doctor grins comforted by her response._  
_“Look, I did my research. I’ve read things about you.” Lexa’s demeanor changes and she falls back into her seat ready to take in the criticism, a habit she’s formed over the years. ___  
_“All good I hope” she says in a sarcastic tone, a reaction she’s perfected when feeling attacked._  
_“I want you to know, that you don’t have to be what they say about you.” This caught the writer off guard. She expected her to threaten her and reprimand her for her lifestyle, not to reassure her. “You can be happy, Lexa. This kind of love is very rare. Take my advice and hold on to it.”_  
_“Um, thank you, Abby. I will. Clarke’s special.” The older woman smiles as her daughter comes back with their drinks._  
_She slides in close to her girlfriend inviting her to wrap her arm around her. Lexa interlaces her fingers with the blonde’s and smiles as she takes in all of Clarke, her smile, eyes, every cringe of the nose and gesture and sound she makes. She was pretty sure that she was happy. _  
__


	3. Hopeless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! This is going to be a long journey.  
> I hear you on the warnings and tags. I'm still learning and will make a conscious effort to warn readers of any triggers.

Lexa, rolls out of bed and crashes onto her hardwood floor. Her head is pounding, and she moans at the sight of the sun beaming through her blinds. She pulls herself up, her hair disheveled and muscles sore. She sees a blonde wrapped up in her sheets. Curious, she takes a peak, her mind drawing a blank from the night before. She’s disappointed that it’s not who she hoped but impressed with her choice of which she has no recollection. She throws on one of her tank-tops and stumbles into her boy shorts on her way out of the bedroom. She grabs her phone to see multiple missed calls and texts from Anya. It was nearly noon, she weighs her options and decides to phone her friend so that she could nurse her hangover with coffee and food. 

Just as she hits the call button there’s a knock on the door. She limps her way over and just as Anya picks up and starts to ask a million questions at once, Lexa is greeted by the grace of the lovely Clarke Griffin. 

“I have to call you back, An.” She hangs up and steps outside remembering the naked woman in her bed. “Clarke, hi. What are you doing here?” She asks drawing her attention away from the house.  
“Are you ok? Is this a bad time?” She asks seeing her still in her underwear.  
“Um, I’m good. I was actually just going to step out for some air. What can I do for you?” Clarke ignores her implausible response.  
“Raven’s waiting for me in the car.” Lexa sees her and waves. “I’m leaving tomorrow, and I think we should talk before I do.”  
“Tomorrow, really? Why so soon?” she asks surprised and disappointed.  
“Do you remember dinner last night?” the blonde asks, suspicious of her clueless response which she believed to be sincere.  
“Yeah, of course I do. You were there, I was there…”  
“Oh my god” the blonde shakes her head in disapprovingly. “Ok, it doesn’t matter.”  
“It’s a little blurry, now that you mention it” the brunette admits trying to recall pieces from the evening.  
“Are you free tonight?” She begrudgingly asks.  
“For you I am.” The artist rolls her eyes.  
“I’m having dinner with my mom and Cane but I can meet you after.”  
“Name the time and place and I’ll be there.”  
“Abbot Kinney around 9” she says walking back to Raven’s car.  
“It’s a date.”  
“It’s not, actually.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“I’m positive. Bye.”  
“Farewell, beautiful.” She watches her drive away as she realizes that she needs a recap of last night’s events. She enters her home and catches the blonde making her escape.  
“Oh, hey. I thought you left.” The blonde says flustered.  
“Nope, still here, but don’t let me stop you.”  
“You're a real charmer” she says walking to the door.  
“No, I mean, I don’t want you to feel more awkward than-” with that she slams the door closed. “Ooookay” the writer says raising her eyebrows. 

***  
Lexa laid comfortably on Anya’s couch in her office practicing her basketball shot while Anya was finishing up a phone call.  
“That was Warner Brothers. They just made another offer for _Penelope.” ___  
“Do I get to choose the director or screenwriter?”  
“No.”  
“That’s a shame. I hate to turn down all that money”  
“Bullshit! You love it, you get off on it.”  
“I have principles. _Adrift _was my rude awakening into Hollywood. I’m not letting them destroy another one of my novels” the writer maintains.__  
“That deal paid for your three year hiatus when you experienced your first bout of writer’s block ten years ago” her agent reminds the brunette.  
“That and the valuable lesson I learned from the experience are its only saving grace. But fool me twice-”  
“Yeah, yeah. In the meantime, Vanity Fair is still waiting on that book review.”  
“Oh yeah, oops. When do they want that?”  
“Last week.”  
“Oh.”

__

____

“So, why are you here, if not to discuss job prospects?” Anya asks annoyed.  
“Right, um, I kind of need a synopsis of last night.”  
“Oh, you mean when you made your speech about ‘family’ that turned into your proclamation of undying love for Clarke in front of everyone?”  
“Shit” the writer felt like a fool especially after her encounter with Clarke earlier in the day.  
“Or when you tried to apologize to Bell tête-à-tête, which turned into you talking about how his ex was awful in bed.”  
“No, I didn’t” she pleads in total disbelief and disappointment.  
“Oh, you most certainly did.” The writer sits up and drops her head on her palms. “Didn’t you wonder why your head was pounding this morning?”  
“I assumed it was the whiskey.”  
“That doesn’t help, but neither does Bell’s right hook.” The brunette caresses her tight jaw as moments come back to her. She sees Lincoln and Cane hold Bellamy back. Clarke momentarily looks at her concerned but redirects her attention to her friend. She remembers that that moment gave her hope.

“How did I get home?”  
“Gustus.” She remembers feeling the air on the back of his motorcycle and walking to her corner bar after he rode off. That’s where she found a blonde whose name, she’s convinced, she never knew.  
“I am such an asshole.”  
“An accidental one.”  
“An alcoholic one.” Anya had no rebuttal to that. “I’m meeting Clarke tonight.”  
“Good, you need to put all that behind you.”  
“What do you mean behind me.”  
“As in it’s over. Time to move on after almost a decade. Did you also conveniently forget that she’s moving out here in a month with her boyfriend?” Lexa’s stomach drops as the plot thickens.  
“It doesn’t mean she’s happy or that they'll stay together.”  
“She’s moving for this guy and she sounds pretty happy to me.”  
“Bullshit! I know that she still cares.”  
“Even if she cares, it doesn’t mean she wants you.”  
“Don’t you think I would've moved on if I could’ve all these years?”  
“You could have, you just didn’t want to.”  
“And I still don’t want to.”  
“Lex-” Anya sees her friend’s sincerity can’t help but feel for her. It was rare for Lexa Woods to speak so openly about her emotions, but she knew that deep down at her core, the writer was just a hopeless romantic at its worst.  
“I’m not giving up.”  
“You’re hopeless.”

***  
Lexa sees Clarke walk towards her and it takes her back to a time when she was happy, when she made the artist happy.  
“Beautiful night for a stroll” She says facing the blonde.  
“It is.” The brunette indicates her to go first with her hand in her jacket pocket. Clarke kept her distance but was less hostile towards the writer. Something changed since their last encounter.  
“Hey, I wanted to apologize for last night.”  
“Your memory’s been restored.”  
“Kind of, I had help.”  
“I don’t get it, Lex.”  
“What?” Clarke stops and turns to her without making eye contact.  
“You proclaim your love to me in front of everyone dear to us both and yet you’re the one who left me, without an explanation.”  
“I know. I-”  
“You changed all of your information and never tried to contact me. I had no idea what happened. I mean one minute we’re planning our lives together, talking about a family and the next, you’re gone. And I’m the idiot left alone to try to figure out what happened. All I had was the note you left saying not to bother going after you.” The artist becomes emotional and simultaneously feels ridiculous after hearing it out loud.  
“What I did was unforgivable. And I regret it every day. If I could take it back I would but I can’t and here we are.”  
“Here we are.”  
“I mean what I say, I always have. I never stopped loving you, there isn’t a day that goes by I don’t think about you and I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”  
“Your words mean nothing” Clarke says looking deep into her eyes. Lexa’s feels her chest tighten, and she is helpless. Her words are all she has, and now standing before the only woman she’s ever loved, she has nothing. The blonde starts to walk, and the writer eventually follows.

“What can I do?” Clarke closes her eyes as tears rush down her cheeks. “I’ll do anything.” The writer catches up to her. “You’re right, my words are empty. Tell me what I can do.” The blonde stops and gathers herself.  
“What do you want from me, Lexa? My forgiveness? My love? What?”  
“I’ll settle for friendship. Whether you like it or not we’re a part of each other’s lives.”  
“I’m moving here with my boyfriend whom I love.” Lexa struggles to hear her say ‘love’. “For us to be friends, I first have to let you go. I need time.” Not exactly what the writer was hoping for, but she would have to work with it because this was her endgame, her one and only. Hell, she’s waited this long already.  
“I understand. Whatever you need. I’ll do whatever it takes.”  
“To let you go, I need the truth. Why did you leave me? Was it another woman? Multiple women?”  
“No, God no! I could never even imagine doing that to you.”  
“Then why?” This was the moment that both have been anticipating and Lexa didn’t want to disappoint. She would give blue eyes her soul.  
“I was afraid. I wasn’t writing and what I did write was shit. If I wasn’t a writer I was no one. I didn’t want you to have to experience my identity crisis.”  
“You didn’t really give me a choice or us a chance.”  
“I was thinking of you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”  
“That was my choice to make and you took it away from me. That hurts more.”  
“I see that now. I made a mistake, the mistake of all mistakes.”  
“Most people would have communicated and worked through it together.”  
“I’m not like most people”  
“Of course not, you’re a writer” the artist mocks. “You’ve been blessed with this gift and it was your responsibility to leave.” Lexa didn’t like where this was going.  
“I feel more cursed than blessed.” That solidified it for the blonde, she’s heard enough.  
“I get it. At least now I know.” Even though her tone was derisive she really did understand. Clarke hated that she understood Lexa so well, because deep down believed that she had only herself to blame for she knew exactly what she was getting into with the writer. Now, the only emotion she had left for the anti-hero was pity. She realized that Lexa truly was stuck in her web of fiction.  
“Clarke, if I had to do it over again I'd-”  
“You can’t. You have to let it go. You have to let me go.”  
“I don’t want to. I love you.” The blonde shakes her head. She cradles the brunette’s face with her hand and the writer basks in her touch closing her eyes and holding it there with her hand.  
“It’s late. I have to go” if she stays any longer she’ll fall apart so she backs away slowly before turning her back.  
“Clarke-” but she remembers what the blonde said, that her words mean nothing, so instead, she watches her walk away. This time she was the idiot left behind to make sense of what had passed. “May we meet again.” 

 

_7ish years earlier_

__

_“Lexa, good to see you” the bald man with lean physique hugs the brunette._  
_“You too, Titus.” She sits opposite him at a table in their usual spot._  
_“I was hoping to see you sooner.”_  
_“I know, I’ve been struggling. Did you get my manuscript?”_  
_“I did. Short stories huh?”_  
_“I had to do something with all my travel notes.”_  
_“I like the idea” she knew there was more._  
_“But?”_  
_“But, it’s shit. Anyone could have written this.” Lexa didn’t think that she would be so affected by his criticism. He’s been her mentor since college and has seen her through every rewrite, revision and ruthless commentary of every publication. Somehow this time it was different._  
_“Lexa, I’m concerned that you’ve lost your voice.”_  
_“Well, shit, teach. Way to kick me while I’m down.”_  
_“You have to hear this, otherwise, you’ll never get it back.”_  
_“I do appreciate your brutal honesty, it just stings a little.”_  
_“You’ve gotten soft. What’s going on with you? Anya says you’ve been more distant than usual.”_  
_“I was looking for inspiration in Southeast Asia.”_  
_“Your island hopping ended a year ago and all you’ve come up with is this eat, pray, love garbage.” Busted. Dammit, Anya. This is why she didn’t tell anyone about Clarke or what she’s been up to for the past year. She hoped to avoid this with Titus knowing how he felt about romantic relationships. And her current situation would prove that he was right: love is weakness._  
_“I’ve been living with a woman in Brooklyn for the past 10 months.”_  
_“I see. Have you written anything else?” she really didn’t want to answer him._  
_“Poetry.”_  
_“Uh huh.” His judgment was transmitted clearly with his utterance._  
_“I know, ok. I know, it’s been hard. I don’t know what to do.”_  
_“You know what to do. To be a writer is to be alone.”_  
_“I want to be with her.”_  
_“Then, you would be depriving the world of your gift.”_  
_“It seems a bit extreme, I mean, maybe I can have it all.”_  
_“How long are you willing to prolong the inevitable? How much of her time are you willing to waste?” As much as the writer wanted to make it work with Clarke, she believed deep down that she would ultimately hurt her in the end._  
_“I don’t know if I have anything left to give as a writer.” This deeply concerned Titus._  
_“Lexa, I’ve been mentoring writers for decades and I’ve never come across anyone like you. You’re special.” ___  
Clarke’s special. _She thinks to herself. Her mind and heart were in conflict and she was in turmoil. “You must go to the other side, alone. You know where it is, you’ve been there before.”_  
_“Yeah, I know.” She knew he was right, and she knew he would say all this and maybe that’s why she decided to contact him. She knew her stories were shit, but a part of her had to see him, to hear him say what she already knew._  
_“I liked one story. I think you could develop it into a novel.”_  
_“Which one?”_  
_“‘Penelope’”_  


____

__

__***__  
_Clarke,_  
_I’m sorry. Please, don’t worry about me and don’t try to find me. I have to go. I made this decision with my mind, not my heart. I hope one day you’ll understand._  
_Love,  
_Lexa__


	4. Bloody Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, guys!  
> There's a bit of blood in this chapter.

3 moths later

“How are you settling in?” Aurora asks handing the women the first round of bloody Mary’s. It was their first official wedding planning rendezvous and Aurora's first time seeing Clarke since she’s moved back.  
“It’s going well. Roan likes his job and I’ve had time to make it feel like home.”  
“It looks great” Raven says.  
“I know your mom and I are looking forward to the housewarming party” Aurora says.  
“Yeah it’ll be nice to see everyone.”  
“Has his family come by yet?”  
“Roan’s mother hasn’t but his sister has stopped by a few times.”  
“And you two get along?” Aurora assumes.  
“Yeah, Ontari is a sweetheart. I’ll have to introduce you, she’s trying to break into acting” She directs to Octavia.  
“How old is she?” the actress asks.  
“She just turned 18 and she’s been working since since she was 16 but hasn’t really caught a break.”  
“Well maybe Anya can work with her.” The latina suggests.  
“Well, her mom has kind of taken over the agent manager role.”  
“So, she’s young and has a good support system. She’ll be fine” O states.  
“Yeah, I guess so” Clarke’s voice was laced with doubt.  
“What? Is her mom crazy?” Raven asks.  
“I don’t know. Roan doesn’t like to talk about her, but some of things Ontari says worries me.”  
“Like she’s living vicariously through her?” Aurora asks.  
“Maybe, she just seems a bit intense, pushy.”  
“Well, those are good qualities to have out here.” Octavia offers to put her friend at ease.  
“I guess so. Anyway, you two would hit it off. Might be nice for her to have a role model.”

***  
“Linc, where are you going?”  
“Home we’re working on the guest list tonight.”  
“Those pricks from Azgeda got next.”  
“I’m already late.”  
“Come on those guys have been talking shit all day.”  
“So, let them. We beat them last week.”  
“I can’t believe you’re abandoning us.”  
“Heda, let’s go!” Gustus yells from the court.  
“We need a third!” Anya throws her hands up at Lincoln to say ‘what the fuck’? She was sitting out after twisting her ankle.  
“Sorry! I gotta go.”  
“What are you gonna do now, Heda?” The kid that’s been watching them all afternoon asks.  
“It’s your lucky day.” The high school student was shocked.  
“Really?”  
“Did I stutter? Let’s go kid!” Andre was stoked he loved watching his coaches play after every Sunday. Even though it’s really Gustus’s team, Andre and the Night Bloods have gotten used to the writer’s presence as assistant coach for the past couple of months seeing her three times a week was a nice constant for most of them. She’s also been tutoring them when she found out that half of them were failing English. She’s gotten to know Andre the most bonding with him after he shared some of his poetry with her. 

They were up by one they just needed one last shot to end the game. Lexa has the ball at the top of the key. Gustus’s man was on her like white on rice so she waits for Andre to make his cut to the basket as she sends a perfectly placed bounce pass as she looks to away. He goes up for the layup and is brutally fouled by the beast that was guarding Gustus. The kid falls to the ground a bit shaken up and as Gustus goes to help him Lexa loses her shit.

“What the fuck was that?!”  
“It was all ball.” The guy had a good seven inches on the writer.  
“Bullshit! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” Gustus yells.  
“Oh, like you?”  
“No Prick, like me!” Lexa says punching the guy right in his nose.  
“Dammit” Gustus says not in the mood to break up another fight.  
“Bitch!” he says shocked at how much it hurt before she tackles him to the ground.  
“He’s just a kid, asshole!”  
“He shouldn’t be playing with men!” he says head butting her. Andre and Anya cringe as Lexa falls on her back. Gustus and the others break it up and stands between Lexa, still on the ground, and the other team. No one wants to mess with the Viking so they back away.  
“Fuck that hurts!” Lexa yells as Anya and Andre help her up blood running down her chin from her cut lip and nose. They make it to the bleachers. “You alright, Kid?”  
“Yeah, I’m ok. Are you?”  
“I’ll survive, but I’m gonna have to cancel our session tonight.”  
“Yeah, it’s cool. Are you still coming to my school tomorrow?”  
“It’ll take more than a concussion to stop me, from talking about myself.” Andre’s smiles as Lexa fist bumps him.  
“Cool. See you” he starts to walk away then turns back. “Hey Heda.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Thanks.”  
“Always a pleasure. Do your homework!” She yells back as he continues walking.  
“You two going to be ok?” Gus asks looking at the injured pair.  
“We’re good Gus.” Anya reassures the giant.  
“Take me home, woman. This hurts like a motha!”  
“You better not get blood on my car.”

 

***  
“So, ladies, let’s tackle the guest list” Aurora announces. Her daughter groans she’s been avoiding it all week overwhelmed with the whole thing.  
“Oh, come on babe, that’s why you’ve got us” the blonde encourages. Raven pulls out her lap top starts looking at the names.  
“Damn! this is a pretty impressive list. When did you become part of Hollywood’s elite?”  
“Yeah right. Linc is treating our wedding as a networking event.”  
“Well, I think it’s great he’s thinking of it as an investment” Raven defends “Especially since he’s paying for it.”  
“We’re paying for it” the bride to be clarifies.  
“Where is he anyways?” her mother asks. “I thought he wanted to help with this.”  
“He’s running late. He’s at basketball with Heda.” Clarke’s ears perk up as she hasn’t heard from or talked about the writer since their last meeting. She was able to get in decent therapy sessions before leaving New York and has talked to Roan about the situation. She’s got her closure and she’s finally moved on.  
“Sunday games can get pretty heated” Raven explains.  
“Oh please, it’s pick up with middle-aged men” O says rolling her eyes.  
“We like to refer to it as Bloody Sunday at the house. One of them always comes home bleeding.” The blonde snickers with the rest but tries her best to not seem affected, but they can all see it. They all decided to stay out of their drama since her last visit. They agreed as to leave it alone trying to draw as little attention to it as possible, trusting that Clarke has it under control.

Just as Lincoln walks through the door, Raven gets a text from Anya of Lexa’s swollen and blood-stained lip and nose with the caption: “You should see the other guy.”  
“Jesus!” the Latina was initially grossed out by the image but then calmed herself.  
“Did you get it too?” Lincoln asks.  
“What?” O asks. Her fiancé kisses her and shows her his phone. He then gives Aurora a peck on her cheek.  
“Oh my god! What happened?”  
“Just another Sunday.”  
“I can’t take her anywhere.” Lincoln jests. “I’m going to shower.” O hands the phone to her mom who winces at the sight.  
“That doesn’t look good” She was genuinely concerned.  
“She’ll be fine” Raven reassures.  
“So, she gets in a fight every Sunday?” Aurora asks. Clarke listens intently but makes an effort not to participate in the conversation.  
“No, mostly it’s just from rough play. Something must have happened, maybe with one of the kids.”  
“What kids?” The blonde couldn’t help herself, her curiosity was enticed with the mention of kids. They all looked surprised to hear from her and a bit hesitant to answer. The actress gives Raven the go ahead to respond.  
“Yeah, she’s been coaching a high school basketball team with Gustus.” The blonde was glad to hear this, she knows how much she loved the game and interacting with youth.  
“Good for her. Who would have thought?” Aurora says to see the writer making some changes, specially since their last encounter.  
“Yeah, Linc says that the kids love her. I think they keep her out of trouble” O observes. It was true, the writer has cut back on her drinking and its had positive effects on her life.  
“Yeah Anya’s been pleased with her work output lately.”  
“I’m glad she’s doing well” Clarke responds occasioning a silent collective relief from the women. They’ve been drama free since the last visit and they hope to keep it that way.  
“Who’s ready for another round? It’s bloody Sunday after all” Aurora states finishing her crimson beverage. 

 

***  
“Why did you become a writer?” One of the students from the back of the room asks.  
“Good question. Hmmm, well, I have no other marketable skills” the brunette deadpans, earning laughter from the class including Andre’s teacher, of which Lexa takes note. “Really, it was either basketball or this, and I wanted freedom, so I took the writer’s route.”  
“So, what happened to your face?”  
“This young man can answer that for you after class” she says pointing to Andre.  
“Are there any other questions related to her work?” The teacher asks. They all put their hands down. “Ok. Let’s give Ms. Woods a hand.” The bell rings as they applaud. Everyone crowds around Andre in the hall to hear the story eliciting a grin form the writer. “Andre can’t stop talking about you” the woman in her late twenties says.  
“Oh, yeah? I hope it’s all good.”  
“For the most part. He’s really improved his writing and I think I have you to thank.”  
“He’s writing it, I’m just making sure he uses proper grammar.”  
“I think what you’re doing with him and his teammates is really sweet” the woman was quite taken by Lexa and was not subtle about it. “They’ve all managed to raise their grades at least one entire letter grade” she says walking towards the writer sitting on her desk.  
“Happy to help.” She welcomes her advance. “Is there anything else I could help you with?” she asks suggestively earning a smile from the teacher. Just as the writer leans forward there’s a knock at the door.

“Hi, Ms. McIntyre.”  
“Hi, Jordan. What can I do for you?” The teacher has mastered hiding her annoyance with her students in her voice.  
“I just wanted to introduce you to-” he sees Lexa and his mood lightens and is uplifted. “Heda? What are you doing here?” Lexa gets up to greet his point guard with one of their improved hand shakes.  
“Just enlightening your classmates with my words.” She looks at the woman standing behind him. She was shorter than the writer but possessed an intimidating presence of an African queen and a face that seemed so familiar to the brunette.  
“Cool, um, this is my aunt, she’ll be talking next period this is my teacher Ms. McIntyre and-”  
“I’m sorry, have we met?” Lexa interrupts.  
“No, but I’m a big fan.” The woman responds after shaking the teacher’s hand offering it to the writer. “Indra.” Lexa was elated with the unexpected turn of events.  
“Well, I have to say, that I am probably one of your biggest fans.”  
“A pleasure, there’s only a handful of you out there” she jokes.  
“Are you kidding? You’re highly respected in certain circles and have quite the cult following.”  
“Well, I’m flattered. It’s funny, I was on the phone with your agent this morning.”  
“You’re kidding?”  
“No, I wanted to pitch my take on _Penelope.” _The brunette was more than thrilled to hear this.__  
“What did she say?”  
“She said that you weren’t interested in adapting it.”  
“I wasn’t until now. Do you have a card?” She pulls one out of her wallet from her back pocket and Indra does the same. “Perfect.” The bell rings and the next class starts to come in. “That’s my cue. Ms. McIntyre, it was a pleasure. Talk to you soon, Indra. See you at practice, Jordan.” She says backing her way out of the classroom. She waits a few moments for the teacher to come out. “You have a great teacher name, but what do adults call you?” The girl smiles.  
“Harper.”  
“So, Harper. What time should I come over tonight?” She asks with a confidence that turned the younger woman on faster than a she could protest.  
“It’s a school night.”  
“We’ll start early. I’ll see you at 7.” All she could do was shake her head and blush as she watched the writer walk away. 

____

***  
Another Sunday afternoon at the courts, except this week Lexa leaves immediately after the Night Bloods’ victory.  
“You got a hot date, Heda?  
“None of your business, kid” she says throwing a towel at Andre.  
“Yeah, we’ll find out tomorrow” he says laughing with the others.  
“Night Bloods! It’s been real. Go home, do your homework and be good to your teacher!” With that, she walks to her Harley and heads home to change to meet Indra at the Indie Film Festival where she’ll be talking about her most recent film and future projects. They wanted to unofficially get the word out so that actors and producers would start to seek them out. 

“Where the hell have you been?”  
“Nice to see you too, best friend” the writer responds catching her breath after rushing to find her.  
“You missed her announcement.”  
“I tried, I really did.” Anya believes her.  
“She’s at some Directors Panel, I’ll come find you when she finishes.”  
“Ok, I’ll be at the bar, I’m a bit parched” the taller woman cautions her friend with a glare. The brunette pretends like she didn’t see her and walks off. As she makes her way through the crowd of people, a guy who was less than polite aggressively bumps into her.  
“Watch where you’re going” the portly man wearing a fedora scoffs.  
“Asshole” she says turning around to walk away. As she looks up she sees the last person she expected to see that evening.  
“Lexa?” the woman says just as surprised.  
“Clarke, hi.” Her body reacts with the usual euphoria mixed with trepidation at seeing the blue eyed lady.  
“What are you doing here?” She asks not knowing what else to say.  
“Um, work. What about you?”  
“I’m here with-” before she could say it, an attractive gentleman with long brown hair in a half pony tail and a shadow stubble puts his arm on Clarke’s waste. It takes everything for her to control and hide her true emotions.  
“Hey, sweetie there’s some people I want you to meet” He then looks to Lexa and realizes who she is.  
“Roan, meet Lexa.” He puts his hand out and smiles.  
“Wow, Lexa, it’s good to finally meet you.” Lexa was confused when she didn’t detect any spite, instead a genuine tone with a hint of excitement. They shake hands.  
“Likewise, Roan.”  
“I’m actually a fan, I really love your work.”  
“Wow, that’s not something I expected to hear. Thank you.” She looks to Clarke who smiles an uncomfortable smile that didn’t reveal her teeth as she avoids eye contact with the writer. “Well, I bid you a wonderful evening, I have to see about an Irishman at the bar.”  
“You should come to our house in a few weeks, we’re having some people over” he blurts out before she makes her escape. Clarke wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but it was too late. The writer looks to her again this time making momentary eye contact to see if it was ok to accept.  
“Yeah, I can give you the details next week at Rae and Anya’s dinner party” the blonde confirms.  
“Thank you, I look forward to it.”  
“Great, see you around” Roan says pleased with her response. And with that the couple walks away. Lexa watches them for a moment before continuing to her intended destination. Clarke turns around one last time and sees her walk off. A part of her was happy to see the writer and yet it’s not what she imagined. She would have liked more time with her and it bothered her that she couldn’t read the brunette. She wasn't expecting to see her again until the following week. At the same time, she didn’t like that she was so affected by the encounter and spends the rest of the evening distracted with thoughts of Lexa and their next interaction.

 

The evening draws on and Lexa has cut herself off after three whiskeys and doesn’t tell Anya about her run in with Clarke. She sees the blonde waiting for her drink at the bar and is distracted while Anya and Indra were talking business. She then sees the douche wearing a fedora start talking to her. Lexa keeps a close eye and sees Clarke politely ignore him. He then raises his voice and even if she can’t make out what’s being said, Lexa doesn’t like it. She scans the area for Roan and sees him entertaining a group of people, totally unaware of the situation. Lexa can’t just watch this happen.

“Excuse me ladies” she says as she walks to the bar.  
“Pardon me, hi, are you ok?” she asks getting in between the blonde and the man talking to her in a crude tone. She was surprised but relieved to see the writer.  
“Hi, um yeah. Thanks.”  
“Of course.” The guy taps her on the shoulder and she gives Clarke the ‘give me a sec’ look.  
“Can I help you?”  
“Yeah, asshole. We were talking.”  
“Sorry, did I interrupt something” she asks looking at Clarke.  
“No, not at all.”  
“You cunt!” The guy was drunk and pissed.  
“Excuse me?” Clarke challenges appalled by use of that word.  
“You heard me.” Lexa holds the blonde back as she launches her entire body towards the man.  
“Clarke, let me handle this” the writer says as she turns around and without warning uses her momentum to punch the guy in the face knocking him back against the bar.  
“Fuck, that hurt!” she yells shaking her hand in the air. The blonde was shocked hands covering her mouth.  
“Fucking dyke!” He says getting up and tackling Lexa to the ground. She grunts at the weight of the guy crushing her as she lands on her back. Roan and Anya see Clarke trying to get the guy off Lexa and run over at the same time. They finally pull the guy off with the help of the bar tender. Lexa’s lip wound was reopened and had a new cut on the ridge of her left eye, blood running down the side of her face and onto her neck. Clarke feels awful and helps her up.

“Lex, are you ok?” she’s dizzy and sees double. “Lexa, look at me.”  
“He needs to apologize” she slurs as she stumbles towards him. Anya catches her.  
“Alright, Heda. You got him good.”  
“Yeah? He can’t talk that way to her” she says slowly while slurring her words. “That’s the love of my life” she says into Anya’s shoulders. Her friend was glad that only she could make it out.  
“Shhh shhh. I’ve got you. Come on, lets get you home.”  
“Is she ok?” Roan asks equally concerned.  
“Yeah, she’ll be fine. Sorry guys.” She looks to the blonde when she says it.  
“No, she didn’t do anything wrong” Clarke insists. The two women she was there with support the writer as the wait for the car. Indra buckles her in and adjusts the seat as Anya starts the car.  
“The press is going to have a field day with this” the director says.  
“We couldn’t have planned it better” and with that Anya drives off. Making sure to keep her friend awake, she turns on the radio and turns up the volume to hear one of their favorite groups from their adolescence. Both start to belt out ‘Sunday, bloody Sunday!” with the windows open keeping the writer conscious as she licks the blood from her dried lips.


	5. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Ranya sex this chapter.  
> As always, thanks for reading!

Lexa steps on her cigarette but before she walks into Trikru LLC, Anya’s Talent Agency that she started and built up with the help of her best friend. Thanks to the writer’s early success she was able to give Anya the financial support as well as a good name in the business. She keeps her sunglasses on as she walks through the agency greeting the kru on her way to Anya’s office. Today was different, everyone seemed to be looking at her differently. Her assistant, who has also taken on the responsibility of the writer’s logistics and public affairs, greets her as usual.

“Good afternoon, Heda”  
“Afternoon, John Murphy. What’s the word?”  
“Anya’s got you booked all week to meet with producers.”  
“Is that so?”  
“Let’s just say your incident from Sunday got people’s attention.”  
“Oh?” She tilts her head down noticing the department gossiping and looking in her direction.  
“Someone got it on video and it went viral” he says pulling out his phone.  
“Let me see that.” She turns up the volume and watches the scene unfold. _Fuck, that hurt! You dyke! _“I kind of got my ass kicked huh?”__  
“It created an uproar within the LGBTQ community and Womens groups all over the country. Left wing media is loving it!”  
“Didn’t they hate me a couple of months ago? Calling me a disgrace to the community, hedonistic chauvinist that sustains the patriarchal system or some other nonsense.”  
“Welcome to the digital world of the 21st century, Heda. You’re the villain one day and the savior the next.”  
“More like a martyr.”  
“Your Twitter has more followers than the Dali Lama.”  
“First of all, I don’t have one of those and second, that’s just sad.”  
“Yes, you do. We started one after _Penelope _was published.” The brunette was shocked and thought about arguing it, but then changed her mind due to lack of energy and interest.  
“I’ll leave you to it then, John. Tweet on, brotha.” __

_____ _

She turns to continue to the boss’s office. She opens the door and immediately closes it at the sight of Raven straddling and riding her girlfriend’s hand to a climax filling the room with her moans.  
“Ohhh, Daaadddy!” Lexa covers her ears. _She did not just call her daddy. _She thinks completely traumatized. The two can’t help but giggle after the Latina comes down from her high.__  
“You think she heard?” the agent asks.  
“There’s no way she didn’t.” Raven kisses her woman deeply to thank her.  
“Mmmmm, you need to stop by more often” she says as her girlfriend stands up and to fix her hair and dress.  
“Only if you remember to lock the door” she says as Anya opens it for their friend.  
“I agree, please lock the door. Hang a tie on the knob. Do something for Christ sake!” She echoes in distress as she finds her way to her couch.  
“That’s what John’s for.”  
“How’s your eye, Heda?” Raven asks unable to see her wound covered by her Ray Ban aviators.  
“Unfortunately, my vision is definitely not hindered” she says replaying the scene in her mind.  
“Sorry about that.”  
“Please, don’t apologize. I’m all for Ranya lovin. It’s admirable what you kids have. Kinkier with age, like wine. Get it girl.” The writer tended to ramble when she felt uncomfortable but truly did adore her friends. The Latina scrunches the writer’s ponytail as she walks to the door.  
“Oh, I plan on it, I’ll see you at the house on Friday” she directs to her friend. She then kisses her lover one last time at the threshold. “See you tonight, _Daddy _” She whispers seductively evoking a burning sensation deep in the blonde’s core.  
“Yes, you will, baby.” She says giving her ass one last squeeze as she heads out.__

_____ _

“You’re a lucky woman, you know that?”  
“I do.”  
“I want that.”  
“No, you don’t. You want easy, low maintenance, no strings attached.”  
“That’s not 100% accurate.”  
“Could have fooled me.”  
“Yeah, maybe for now that’s what I want” the writer stops to contemplate her words “actually, I don’t even want it, it’s just something that happens and that I do out of habit, out of boredom,” she pauses, “mostly loneliness.”  
“What about that teacher?”  
“She’s a lovely human being.”  
“But she’s not Clarke.”  
“No, she’s not.”  
“You could have made an effort all those years.”  
“It’s not like I didn’t think about it every day.”  
“Why didn’t you?”  
“Shame, fear, self-loathing/hate, etc.”  
“Laziness,” the agent adds.  
“All of the above.”  
“Well, we all make choices.”  
“That we do, and my volatile ones from Sunday seem to have generated some financial options for our project.”  
“That, they have. My phone has been off the hook. Meetings start tomorrow morning with Polis Productions. So, no fucking around tonight and no drinking”  
“I’ll be good all week, I promise.”  
“Good! We’re going to make this work if I have to pay for the damn movie myself. It’s got Oscars written all over it, actors are starting to reach out to play their breakthrough lesbian role, a guaranteed nomination. Your book sales will go up, our baby’s future will be secured, all thanks to your fucked-up genius of a mind.” Out of her agent’s entire discourse, only one thing stuck with Lexa.  
“Baby?” Her best friend can’t contain her excitement any longer.  
“We’re having a baby.”  
“Holy shit! Like a real one? When? How? Who?”  
“She’s due in 6 months! Dinner on Friday is to announce it to everyone” Lexa couldn’t believe it. She was overjoyed for her friend, yet it triggered something else in her, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.  
“That’s fucking fantastic news! Congratulations!” She gets up and embraces her. She couldn’t be happier for her best friend.  
“One more thing,” Anya knows that Raven’s going to kill her for asking without her present, but she was caught up in the moment. “We want you to be the godparent.”

 

***  
Clarke and Bellamy walk through the house towards the patio to see everyone standing and raising their glasses. Roan was working late so she caught a ride with her friend.  
“Are we late?” he asks.  
“No, we’re a bit early.” She notices everyone seemed to be directing their attention to Lexa as Indra spoke.

“It’s such an honor to be working with someone so dedicated to their art. Thank you, Lexa, for believing in me. Anya, for making it possible for us to do what we love.”  
“To Penelope!” Anya concludes.  
“To Penelope!” the rest reply as the blonde walks out to join them.  
“Speak of the devil” Raven says putting down her glass to receive her friend. Lexa turns around, her heart drops to her stomach as she looks at her with a light-hearted smile.  
“If she’s the devil, then I hope I go to hell” the writer mumbles as the group greets them. She waits her turn taking in the scene of her family interacting with the woman she loves. Bellamy waves at her dismissively and walks into the house with the others before she could return the gesture. The blonde approaches the writer with a calm that puts both at ease.  
“Hi”  
“Hello, beautiful” the blonde didn’t seem bothered by what slips out of the brunette out of habit. “I mean, Clarke” she clarifies bringing a soft smile to the artist’s face.  
“How’s your eye?”  
“It hurts” she responds with candor that evokes an overdue laughter from both women. “You look well, radiant in fact.”  
“Thank you” the blonde can’t help but blush. “So do you” she says trying to keep the interaction going.  
“Radiant, really? I look like shit” she jokes “I look like I was stung repeatedly by a swarm of bees” the blonde can’t help but laugh at the writer. “I feel like Rocky after his run in with Apollo. _Adrian, Adrian! _” she dramatizes.__  
“Stop, it’s not that bad. You’re such a ham” she snickers then collects herself to deliver a sincere message. “But, really, thank you. It was reckless over reaction, but I appreciate where it came from.”  
“Of course, Clarke. You already have this asshole to deal with” she jests referring to herself.  
“True, I can only handle so many.”  
“Hmmm, I never knew you were into that.” The blonde smacks her shoulder, a bit embarrassed. “Ouch! Hey, I’m not judging.” The writer states with her hands up.  
“You’re such a perv, you’re like a pubescent boy.”  
“I have been spending a lot of time with them lately.”  
“Please, you’ve always been a deviant” Clarke retorts as they continue their banter. At this point everyone has arrived including Abby who sees the two outside, being playful with one another. She’s concerned but doesn’t let on. She ignores the elephant in the room the same as everyone else. 

____

The evening went smoothly, quite the improvement from the last time they were all in the same room together. They asked Lexa to be the godparent after the announcement. As Anya drilled a whole through the writer’s skull with her glare, she gracefully accepted and acted as if it were the first time she’d been asked. It was a drama-free evening that celebrated new beginnings for everyone, the baby, the move, the movie and the wedding. 

At one point, Lexa was so involved in talking to Indra and O about the project that she didn’t even touch her drink. Cane got a moment with the writer and her uncle to talk about a leadership program for the kids in Gustus’s neighborhood since that was his organization does for startups, Corporations and other institutions. Abby observed the writer all evening and of course her daughter couldn’t help but notice a side of her that she hasn’t seen in a long time. In the end, it was the hosts, Lexa, Clarke, and Abby and Cane on the patio overlooking the pool on a clear night in April

“So, I have a question” Cane proposes after taking a hit of the joint that Lexa rolled. “Why do your people call you Heda?”  
“There’s not much to the story” the writer says less than excited to have to explain.  
“I want to hear this. Rae, do you know the story?” Abby asks.  
“Actually, when we first met, I knew you as Lexa. It wasn’t until Anya and I got together that I started calling you Heda” the artist was surprised and eager to hear more, never really getting the story of how they all met.  
“Believe it or not, she introduced us” Anya says.  
“Yes, I’m responsible for this blessed union” she says exhaling and passing it to the blonde sitting across from her.  
“Really?” Clarke says surprised as she takes a puff.  
“I went to one of her book signings” the Latina starts as she passes the joint to her lover without taking a hit. “Of course, she hits on me and it was really working for me at the time.”  
“I didn’t hit on you, that’s how I am with all my fans.”  
“Yeah, all your attractive female fans” Anya corrects, they all laugh in agreement. The artist was highly entertained by the story even though her body and mind couldn’t decide on one way to feel. She can’t be jealous, it was years ago and she's moved on, but maybe it’s acceptable to feel uncomfortable. She didn’t have enough energy to sort it all out at the moment.  
“So, anyway. She convinces me to have dinner with her, not that it took much” she admits. “I pretty much had the hots for her since I read her first novel when I was in college.”  
“Long story short, I got food poisoning and she had to call Anya to come pick us up” the writer resumes.  
“Yeah, this was like halfway through the main course” Raven clarifies “just when she started putting on the moves.”  
“You don’t waste anytime” Clarke quips.  
“She’s lucky she got dinner” the writer retorts without hesitating. Raven, the only one not high, notices the slight tension and continues the story.  
“She was living with Anya at the time. So while she was cleansing herself, her agent and I got to know each other” the Latina says reaching for her partner’s hand.  
“That same night, I asked her for her number and we never turned back” Anya says kissing her hand. Their friends were touched. Lexa looks at them in total adoration, feeling her heart grow heavy and her swollen eye start to tear. Clarke notices but doesn’t draw attention to it.  
“Well, I think that earns you the godparent role” Abby says.  
“I’d say so. But back to my question. Why the hell do your people call you Heda?” Cane reiterates pulling the writer out of her emotional moment.  
“Lincoln couldn’t say Lexa, when he was a baby, so he called me Heda. My parents thought it was adorable, so it stuck.”  
“You’re right” the man says earnestly, “Not interesting at all.” Lexa bursts out in laughter loving Cane’s dry sense of humor. 

 

Abby offers her daughter a ride home, but she opts for a Lyft to share with Lexa.  
“I learned so much about you tonight.”  
“Is that a good thing?”  
“Yeah, I think it’s healthy for us.”  
“Healthy for us?” she repeats hoping for clarification.  
“I want to be your friend.”  
“Good, because I want to be yours.”  
“It makes it easier if we both want the same thing.” Lexa remembers how easy it was to be with Clarke to love her the way she did when they were together. Nothing else seemed to matter. Now it was hard, the writer made it hard and there’s no going back. They could only go forward.  
“Yeah. So, friend, I guess I’ll see you at the next friends and family event” she says to lighten the mood as the car stops at her house. “Your housewarming partay?”  
“Right, yeah, I almost forgot” she says uncomfortable with how it was being left.  
“Maybe, I should get your number. You know, just in case I can’t make it.” She couldn’t think of a worse excuse to get her number.  
“Um, yeah, of course, we’re friends,” she reminds herself as she puts her information in the writer’s phone.  
“I’m actually glad that you took initiative there, cause I wouldn’t have been able to figure it out” she earns a laugh from the blonde and to the writer that was everything. If she could be so lucky to be in her life again even as a friend, she would dedicate her efforts to making the blonde smile, laugh; to making her happy, even just for isolated moments.


	6. Words and Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there will definitely be Clarke centric chapters, but not for a while.  
> Also, there are some short Clarke and Roan scenes throughout.  
> I appreciate you guys sticking around for this. It's going to be a long one full of ups and downs. :-)

“You killed it, kid!” The lanky teenager was still coming down from his high of performing in front of an audience. Lexa puts her arm around his shoulder. “That was the _bomb _” she says with her tone rising at the end. He grins thinking who says that anymore? But he wouldn’t want to hear form anyone else.__  
“Thanks, Heda. Was it alright?” He needed assurance, he didn’t trust the crowd’s reaction.  
“Alright? That was so raw and pure! The ladies think you did alright” she says turning his head to a group of girls gossiping and looking in his direction.  
“I was so nervous.”  
“Couldn’t tell.”  
“I took your advice and imagined a place, where I felt safe, peaceful and had nothing to lose, and let it all out.”  
“That’s what I’m talkin about.”  
“It really worked. I felt… free.”  
“That, feeling, it radiated from you. That’s you sharing a part of yourself with the world.” Andre always acted like the writer’s rants about poetry and the soul were silly occasioning eye rolls, but he held on to her words and internalized them over the past few months. Today he experienced it.  
“I really liked it.” She smiles and messes his hair causing him to pull away. “Watch the hair!” 

_____ _

Lexa was thrilled for the young adult who found comfort in basketball and poetry. She helped him see his potential  
and it gave him confidence to carry himself through the world. His reality was anything but ideal, like most kids from the neighborhood, he was raised by a single mother and had to help take care of his younger siblings, work late nights and try to struggle in school. Lexa felt for the kid, seeing parts of herself in him.

“Come on I’ll buy you a drink.”  
“I’ll have what you’re having” he says trying to be smooth as they walk up to the counter. The bartender had her back turned and Lexa couldn’t help but check out the curvy figure before her.  
“Good, then we’ll take to waters” she says loud enough to get the woman’s attention.  
“Oh, come on Heda” he whines  
“No way, what do you think this is?” she asks giving him a scrutinizing look as if she’d ever buy him or any other minors an alcoholic beverage. 

“Lexa?” The bartender turns to hear a familiar voice and her nickname. This prompts the brunette, who was leaning on the counter, to stand straight up, like the hair on her arms.  
“Clarke?”  
“In the flesh.”  
“We really need to stop meeting this way, beau-” she immediately catches herself, more quickly with each meeting, but Andre still caught it. “-Clarke.”  
“What are you doing here?” she asks with smile.  
“I’m here for the poetry. What about you? Bartending?”  
“I’m been volunteering for the museum until I find work.”  
“Ahem” Andre coughs.  
“Clarke, meet Andre, verse virtuoso and poet extraordinaire.”  
“Impressive. Nice to meet you, Andre” she says putting her hand out for a hand shake.  
“The pleasure is all mine, Clarke” he replies putting on the charm as he kisses her hand.  
“So how about those waters?” Lexa interrupts.  
“Actually, I would like a coke”  
“That stuff will destroy your teeth”  
“Whiskey will destroy your liver” Clarke smirks, amused by the boy.  
“He’s got you. Coke it is”  
“Thank you” Andre’s immediate liking to the blonde was anything but subtle.  
“Those girls have been waiting to talk to you. Go put them out of their misery.” He took the hint and looked in their direction but not wanting to leave Clarke. “Just keep it cool, let them come to you. They’ve waited this long.”  
“What do you think, Clarke?” the teen asks.  
“Well, for me, humility goes a long way. It’s the silent confidence that women can’t resist” Lexa was entranced by the bartender’s words, her way of interacting with the kid and her tone.  
“Yeah, I like that.”  
“Go get em” Lexa says pushing him off. He turns one last time.  
“Oh, and Clarke, Heda totally checked you out when you were turned around.” The blonde gives Lexa an incriminating look as the brunette was stunned from being thrown under the bus. 

“Well, well, well. Quite the role model you’ve become” her voice laced with sarcasm.  
“Kids, they’ll say anything for attention.”  
“Sounds like a good fit for you” the brunette smirks as a rebuttal. “That’s all you’ve got huh? Used up all your energy on checking out bartenders?”  
“I appreciate beautiful women, just as I do art, music and literature.”  
“Right, that’s what it is, appreciation.”  
“I wasn’t expecting it to you” she defends.  
“So, you only appreciate the aesthetics of strangers’ bodies?”  
“I know what you’re doing, lady. It’s not going to work”  
“What am I doing exactly?”  
“You’re trying to get me in trouble with my words.”  
“You do that on your own.”  
“What can I say, it’s a gift” she says shrugging her shoulders. The blonde shakes her head and chuckles looking into the brunettes eyes and her ridiculously cute grin. Both seem to have eased into a playful space and were happy about it. Their moment ends sooner than they’d like.

“There you are” a younger woman calls running her hand up the writer’s mid spine before dropping it to her waist where she keeps a firm hold. She noticed her flirting from a far and made it clear that she wasn’t having it. She turns to Clarke who’s amused by the scene and was flippant with the bartender. “One water.”  
“Hey where did you come from?” This was the last thing that Lexa wanted to deal with today. The bartender noticed the discomfort in writer’s demeanor and relishes in it.  
“Here you go” she says handing the water to the woman who doesn’t even look at her. The blonde looks to the writer with a raised eyebrow signaling her to be polite and make the introduction, that she really didn’t want to do.  
“Ummm, Clarke, meet Harper… my friend” The teacher was not happy to hear that and pulls away from her.  
“Nice to meet you” the blonde says but was ignored by the other woman.  
“So, how do you know each other?” she asks instead.  
“We’re old friends.” _Friends my ass, _the teacher thinks.__  
“Yeah, we go way back.” Lexa adds.  
“New York, if my memory serves me” Clarke says playing with the writer.  
“It serves you fine” the brunette insists. Harper watches the two interact and doesn’t buy it at all.  
“How do you two know each other?” the blonde asks putting the writer on the spot, she was getting too much pleasure from it and didn’t feel bad at all. Afterall, she had her words, her gift from the gods to get her out of yet another mess.  
“We’re-” the brunette cuts her off.  
“She’s Andre’s teacher. We’ve been hanging out.” Harper couldn’t believe this asshole. Her gaze was like a dagger penetrating the writer with her anger.  
“Yeah, we’ve been hanging out. Excuse me, I’ve got to get my student home” she says implying that she was leaving without the writer.  
“OK, I’ll catch up with you in a bit.”  
“Take your time” she says wryly as she walks away.

____

“You’re totally busted” the blonde says completely amused.  
“I think you’re enjoying this too much”  
“Go put out the fire you started” she directs.  
“It’s your ass that started this fire” the writer argues.  
“You’re such a child” Clarke says rolling her eyes.  
“You know these surprise encounters aren't not good for my health” she exaggerates. “Want to have lunch one day this week, old friend? Maybe not meet by accident, not that I’m complaining.”  
“Sounds like you just were a second ago” she makes the writer wait a little longer. “Send me a text, you have my number.”  
“Is that a yes?”  
“Text me and you’ll find out.”  
“I definitely will, once I figure out how to use the damn thing” she says looking at her phone confused eliciting a guffaw from the blonde. 

 

***  
Harper drops off Andre first finally shutting the writer up. She continues the drive without saying a word and when Lexa would attempt to say anything she drowned it out with the radio. There was no escaping the wrath of the heartbroken woman. She arrives at the writer's house and turns of the ignition. The brunette sits uncomfortably waiting for her to talk.  
“Do you fuck all your friends?” And here we go.  
“Harper, I thought were having a good time.” The teacher was told up front where she stood. Nonetheless, since the writer spent time with her outside of the bedroom, she thought that maybe it was different with her. The past month has been meaningful to the brunette but not in the same way.  
“I don’t want to be your friend that you fuck.”  
“I care about you.”  
“I know, but I need more, and want more from you.”  
“I’m sorry. I can’t give you what you need.”  
“Ok. Let’s just not do this anymore.”  
“Harper, you’re an amazing woman-”  
“Please just go.” Lexa sighs and lets herself out and the blonde was gone before she could wave goodbye.

She walks into her empty house and makes her way to the kitchen puts her phone on the counter and reaches for the bottle of whiskey. She doesn’t immediately pour, instead, she grabs a water and her phone. She walks to her back patio grabbing a pen and notebook form her counter on her way out. She lights a cigarette and contemplates the early evening sky. She sits on her lawn chair and commences to do something she hasn’t done in a long time, write a letter.

 

***  
“Honey, I’m in here” Roan calls hearing her come in. Clarke’s feet were sore and she was exhausted form the heat of the day. She was looking forward to a warm bath and maybe even a foot massage from her man. She sees him on his computer on the sofa.  
“Hey, gorgeous” he says putting his laptop aside. “How was your day?” She plops herself next to him and is welcomed with a tender kiss.  
“It was long, I’m exhausted.”  
“I figured with the heat. I drew you a bath.”  
“You did?” she asks with admiration.  
“I did, go on relax. I’m going to finish some work.”  
“It’s your day off.”  
“They don’t really do that in showbiz.”  
“Ok” she complies “don’t work too hard.” She kisses him to thank him for the bath.  
“I won’t. We’ll rendezvous in bed. I want to hear about your day.” Clarke decide it was a good time to disclose her run in with the writer.

“So funny thing” she says walking towards the bathroom.  
“Yeah?”  
“I ran into Lexa.”  
“Really, what was she doing there?” he asks opening his laptop.  
“One of her players was performing.”  
“Nice, is everything ok with you two?”  
“Yeah, I think we’re finally at the point where we can be friends” she says unsure of who she was trying to convince, herself or her boyfriend. “I mean I don’t feel like smacking her as much as before.” He chuckles loud enough for the blonde to hear as she steps into the tub.  
“That’s great, honey. Is she still coming to our party?”  
“I think so. We’ll probably get lunch before then” she says nonchalantly.  
“Good, this party is going to be the talk of this side of town.” Clarke was not as excited as her boyfriend as it’s really more of a networking event than a warm welcome. She hated putting on a show for fake LA people that he was trying to impress.  
“It’ll be good” she says sinking into a deeper relaxation. A half hour later she gets out and as she puts on her robe she hears her phone vibrate on the bathroom counter. She sees consecutive messages from an unknown number: 

_Hey_  
_I think I figured it out_  
_This is Lexa by the way ___  
_Text me back if you get this ___  
_If not, I guess I’ll see you around ___  
_I really hope this is the right number ___  
_If not, sorry_  
_Ok, bye _  
__

__

__

___The blonde can’t help but giggle and smile at the writer’s shenanigans._ _ _


	7. Angels and Demons

The writer looks up and sees her dressed in a wrap midi skirt and loose white chiffon blouse. She was like a cool ocean breeze bringing the writer to her feet and rejuvenating her cells, she felt alive. She missed everything about the artist, her smell, her hair, her smile, her bohemian chic style and her eyes that used to look at her with the same longing that the writer currently had for her. 

“Wow, you’re a breath of fresh air.” She kisses her on the cheek and hugs her playfully hanging on longer than appropriate. Causing the artist to pull away smiling.  
“Hi, ok, take it easy” she says keeping her at arms-length.  
“Sorry, old habit.”  
“Uh huh, let’s keep it friendly.”  
“Absolutely, Clarke” they sit down. “So how are you, old friend?”  
“I’m well” the artist realized she couldn’t stop smiling and tries to tone it down.  
“Yeah? You look well. Are you happy?” the blonde looks at her unsure of what she meant by the question. “In LA I mean.”  
“Yeah, I am. It’s an adjustment. Not having a car is a challenge, but the sunshine and my people help.”  
“Good, I’m glad to hear it” she lets the blonde look through the menu. “Thanks for meeting me, I mean, you didn’t have to, and, I don’t know, just thanks.” Clarke could read her nervousness even behind the menu and takes control of the situation by keeping it light. They had their intense, drama filled reunion months ago and she was ready to move on.  
“Well, we do have what, sevenish years to catch up on?” she says pulling the menu down to make temporary eye contact. Lexa relaxes with her lighthearted tone and gesture. The server takes their order and is ogling the dark skinned woman the entire time. While the writer was clueless, her friend sitting across from her noticed. “Although, I have a pretty good idea of what you’ve been up to” she says gesturing towards the server.  
“Don’t believe everything you read on the internet”  
“First, Raven and O are my sources and second, I do have eyes” she deadpans.  
“Ok, well, yes, they’re pretty credible” she responds with no argument.  
“But really, what happened to you? One would think that the success you had with the novel would keep you focused.”  
“I don’t know. It took me almost two years to finish. I was a recluse. I didn’t speak to anyone for months” she leaves out the occasional strangers at bars that helped her satisfy her human needs. “I was drinking pretty heavily, irregular sleep patterns, it wasn’t a great time for me.”  
“Yet, you managed to write your magnus opus?”  
“I was obsessed. Really, I drank so that I could sleep, to avoid…” she stops herself from talking about her feelings for the woman sitting across from her. She didn’t want her to think she was trying to gain points or pity. It was simply the truth. When she wasn’t writing, she would think of Clarke and the regret and pain of what she did. To avoid second guessing her decision or falling into an irreparable depression she would drink and pass out. Instead, she settled for temporary relief of being a functional alcoholic. “…reality. It was too much to have to deal with both my fiction and reality” she explains. 

Clarke, as an artist, was aware of the dedication one puts into their craft, and even more so for a novel of that magnitude. She seemed to understand the writer and had no judgment, she can’t help that she fell in love with the typical troubled artist. She separated herself from it, as she had worked on with her therapist before her move. Nevertheless, that was two years, she was curious to know what the hell she’s been doing since. Their meal comes out and the brunette barely acknowledges the server, something that was so natural for her whenever she was with the blued eyed beauty.

“What happened, Lex?”  
“I don’t know, once I finished my novel my depression set in, but I couldn’t really deal with it because Anya had me on a book tour. I had to suffer the wrath of the public for over a year. I won some prizes, made some money, blah blah blah.” The writer was famous for her public appearances that ended in angry, sometimes drunken rants about society that was often offensive and always entertaining. She maintained her unapologetic anti-establishment/rebel without a cause image that came to be after her debut novel at age 24. Thanks to Anya and her people, Lexa was celebrity in her own right.  
“Lex, you received one of the highest validations in your field.”  
“I don’t write for validation, Clarke.” The blonde knew this.  
“Apparently you don’t write at all. Why did you stop?”  
“I hit the wall, again.”  
“How long has it been?”  
“I haven’t written fiction in five years. Just the bullshit required from work that Anya finds me” there’s a pause but Clarke waits for her to continue. “I lost my muse.” She couldn’t help using the ambiguous term and wasn’t concerned with the blonde picking up on it or not. Clarke refuses to think of herself as her muse as it brings up too many painful memories that both women were working so hard to let go. “Enough about me. What about you. How’s your art? I did some googling, you did pretty well for yourself.” 

“I’m very fortunate. I had a few lucky breaks.”  
“You’re also incredibly talented”  
“Thanks. Anyway, it was rough at first, but I did deal with my depression. It took time and lots of therapy, but I managed.” Lexa was glad to hear it, though, she’s always known that the artist was stronger than her and that she would heal, unlike herself. However, her muse failed to mention that it took five long years of therapy, two years of destabilizing depression and some reckless behavior of her own to be whole again. “Like you once told me, it’s all part of our journey, there is no wrong path. It led me to very rare opportunities”  
“You mean the portraits you did for Time’s Most Influential People?” Clarke thinks back to how that came to be. It started with her portraits of Lexa that became her obsession after she left. Some were caricatures, a few realistic, others abstract as she played with various methods, nevertheless they were all woven with the same guiding thread to create a tapestry that exuded her personal distinct style. Bellamy had forced her to do an art walk after being out of the scene for a couple of years, and that’s where she was asked to do the project for Time.  
“Yeah, that, Europe and Roan.” The writer smirks.

“Roan, that lucky son of a bitch. How did you two meet?”  
“Mutual acquaintances. I was doing my tour through Europe I met him in Berlin.”  
“What was he doing there?”  
“He was working on a documentary with his friends.”  
“Oh, right film industry, Hollywood, it’s all coming together” the writer rationalizes. “So, he’s good with the camera and working with others” she assumes.  
“Actually,” the artist was hesitant to share the next piece of information. “he’s a writer.” Lexa lifts her eyebrow at the surprising and curious news.  
“Oh?”  
“Yeah, he’s a writer for one of those networks” the artist had absolutely no interest in the entertainment business.  
“Haven’t you learned your lesson with writers?”  
“He’s not a writer like you.”  
“Oh, no?”  
“No, he’s firmly grounded to reality, there’s no entanglement with his fiction. It’s work for him, a means to an end. But you, well, that is your end.” The writer doesn’t argue instead focuses on their relationship.  
“So, what’s his endgame? Marriage, kids, house with the picket fence?”  
“Maybe, something like that.” The writer, was sick to her stomach. The blonde was always anti-marriage and picket fences, but they did talk about kids and sharing their life once upon a time.  
“Are you happy? Does he make you laugh?”  
“Lex” blue eyes warn.  
“What? I’m your friend, I want to make sure you’re happy.”  
“Yes, I’m happy. He makes me happy” she says looking straight into her eyes that were starting to get lighter. As long as Clarke was happy the writer would not get in her way.  
“Good. But I’m concerned about his fashion sense and what’s with the ponytail?” she says to lighten the mood.  
“What? his hair is great. Come on.”  
“I don’t know, he’s half assing it. If you’re going to have hair like that don’t dress like a businessman” she’s ecstatic to hear the artist laugh. “Right? He has to choose, Clarke. Someone needs to tell him.”  
“I like his hair”  
“It’s not working for me.”  
“It doesn’t have to work for you.”  
“Thank the Gods.” 

The afternoon carries on and they found themselves walking through the neighborhood losing track of time as they wove each other back into their lives. Laughter, banter, playfulness mixed with questioning of ideas and conversations that would lead nowhere. Before they knew it, it was six as the artist looks at her phone for the first time all day. She reads a message form Roan and relaxes a bit. 

“Everything ok?”  
“Yeah, all good. Roan’s working late tonight.”  
“Showbiz”  
“Yeah, I know.”  
“So, this party this weekend is going to be quite the event.”  
“Yeah, that’s what everyone’s been saying.”  
“How are you holding up?” The brunette knows how much the introverted artist disliked entertaining strangers, especially from that world. She always did better with more intimate gatherings amongst kindred spirits.  
“Hanging in there. Rae’s been a godsend.”  
“House wifery looks good on her.”  
“She’s taking a leave. I can’t see her staying away from her work for too long.”  
“You never know, once my godchild charms her with their existence, I think she’ll consider making it a more permanent option.”  
“Maybe, you never know. People change.” The Latina was literally a genius and has been working as a researcher in the College of Science and Technology at UCLA for almost a decade.  
“Change, the only constant in life.” They arrive at her mat black Sportster but neither are ready to part. “Do you want a ride home?” She’s never been on a motorcycle before. Lexa used to ramble on about it when they were in New York awakening a curiosity in the blonde. “I promise you’ll love it.”  
“Ok, but go slow.” She hands her the helmet and helps her adjust it.  
“I will.” She waits for the blonde to mount and find a comfortable position. “Keep your feet on the pegs the whole time and old on. Also, stay straight, you’ve had some practice with that lately, shouldn’t be a problem.” The blonde smacks her shoulder. “Ouch!”  
“Ha. Ha. What do I hold on to?” Lexa takes her hands and guides them around her waist to the handles on her leather jacket.  
“Here. And seriously stay straight or neutral, whatever.”  
“Ok” she says behind her ear causing the writer’s hair behind her neck to rise. 

The writer eases her way to higher speeds and the blonde learns to relax behind her as their bodies melded. All three entities as one gliding through the air and stopping more often then they’d like at every traffic light. 

“Nice detour” the artist says as she hands the helmet to the writer.  
“Thought it would be nice to catch the sunset” The blonde walks to towards the edge of the hill to take in the view of that dirty city she adopted as a troubled teen.  
“City of angels”  
“And demons” the writer finishes. The artist takes in a deep breath. “Yeah, take in that pollution. Mmm mmm” she says taking her own advice. They stand in silence looking out into the distance. It was always meaningful to Clarke to be able to be silent with someone. For as talkative as the writer was, no one was better at it than her. It was always easy to just be with her.  
“This was a really good day” the blonde shares with the woman in the leather jacket.  
“The best I’ve had in a long time.” Clarke smiles flattered by the sentiment. The last good day the writer had was when she spent it with the artist, getting caught in the rain walking through the damp city. Finding their way home and keeping each other warm with their naked bodies. The artist painting with the writer admiring her from a far. Clarke eventually falling asleep in her arms while Lexa read. She’s been on her decent to hell ever since, she hasn’t seen the surface. Yet, in that moment, she at least had a glimpse of light, as distant and faded as it was, there was light. 

_10ish months ago_

__

_“Clarke, last week you told me that you were very happy with Roan.”_  
_“I was, I mean I am.”_  
_“So, why are you now thinking about ending it?”_  
_“He’s great. We get along and the sex is good, he’s interesting and… something is missing.”_  
_“What do you mean?”_  
_“My body is telling me that something’s not right._  
_“Can you describe the corporal sensations?”_  
_“I’ve been waking up with panic attacks. Like I’m struggling for air and my chest tightens.”_  
_“Do you think this was triggered by something?”_  
_“Yes.”_  
_“What?”_  
_“Moving to LA with my boyfriend.”_  
_“Last week you spent the entire hour talking about the pros and cons and if you were ready or not and you concluded that you were.”_  
_“Well, what do you conclude?” ___  
_“It appears you’re having doubts.” ___  
_“That’s an understatement.” ___  
_“It doesn’t mean that it’s related to your relationship. It could be the move, LA, your mother, your work.” _  
_“Maybe, but how do I know? and what do I do when I figure it out?”___

_____ _

_“Whoa, slow down. Let’s go back to Roan. Why do you feel like something is missing?”_  
_“I don’t know. He’s the third relationship I’ve been in and it’s great.”_  
_“Are you comparing it to past relationships?”_  
_“Umm… it’s hard not to.”_  
_“To Finn or to Lexa?” The blonde really did not wan to answer and considered lying but knew it would get her nowhere with the therapist she’s been seeing for the past six years._  
_“I guess Lexa.”_  
_“It’s natural she was your last love and you never really got your closure.”_  
_“God, will I ever be free of her fucking shadow? Here I am with a great guy who treats me well and loves me and yet she continues to haunt me.”_  
_“There’s no timeline for these things, Clarke. You’ve come a long way. You’ve been extremely successful with work, you have maintained this relationship. You don’t have to let this keep you from the happiness you deserve.”_  
_“So, you’re saying that I should go through with the move.”_  
_“I’m saying that you can hide from your fear or face it.”_  
_“What’s my fear again?”_  
_“Fear of never being able to be with anyone because of Lexa, which is, as we’ve already decided years ago, a narrative you’ve created.”_  
_“I do fear that. I don’t want to commit to Roan just to break his heart.”_  
_“You have a choice, you don’t have to break anyone’s heart, including yours. Rewrite your narrative. Break down your fears and see what’s at the core. If you believe that Roan and your happiness is worth it, you’ll make the move. If you don’t think you’re ready, that’s ok too. But you decide, Clarke. This is your life, you are in control.”_  
_“I’m in fucking control! I’m the fucking writer of this narrative!”_  
_“Trust yourself to make the right choice.”_  
_“Thanks, Nylah, I mean Dr. Post.”_  
_“Of course, I’m just here to remind you of what you already know. I believe in you, Clarke.”_  
_“Ok, same time next week?”_  
_“I’ll be here.”_

____

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_____ _

_____ _

_Nylah Post PsyD, has been an Angel sent to Earth to guide Clarke through all of her internal and external obstacles on her path. Not only did she help her work through Lexa’s abandonment, but also all of her demons from the past regarding the death of her father, her relationship with her mother and her commitment/abandonment issues. She’s accompanied her through hell and back and Clarke couldn’t ask for a better companion on this journey._


	8. Kryptonite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> There's a brief mention of consensual sex with a minor in this chapter.

“Damn there are lots of people here” Lincoln pulls up behind one of the many cars lined on Clarke’s street. “How do they know so many people?”  
“Roan’s work and family” his fiancé answers.  
“What’s our safe word, crew?” Lexa asks hugging her arms around the two front seats of the car.  
“It’s late we should get going?” says her practical younger brother.  
“Works for me. You joining us, little one?” she turns to Octavia putting on the finishing touches of her make up.  
“No, I’m spending the night with Rae, Abby and my mom. We’ve got some wedding business to attend to tomorrow.”  
“How did I not get an invite?” the writer asks offended.  
“Because you’re needed with the groom?”  
“For future reference, I’d much rather spend time with you ladies than with our brothers” she responds as Lincoln rings the bell “  
“I’m sure you would but I’m don’t think it works like that” O says laughing.  
“Something to keep in mind” she says as Abby opens the door to welcome the trio.

“Hi! Come in! Everyone is in the back.” The couple greets her with a hug and kiss and head to the back while Lexa takes a moment with her. “Good to see you, Lex.”  
“You too, Abby. Wow look at this place” she says taking in her surrounding impressed with the space and the artist’s touch.  
“You know Clarke. This is her thing.”  
“It certainly is?” She sees the artist entertaining a group of people she didn’t know and smirks knowing how much energy it drains from her friend to host. The older woman sees her entranced by her daughter’s grace and elegance and brings her back to the ground.  
“Lex, this is Roan.”  
“Sorry, what was that?”  
“Lexa!” Roan greets her with a big hug that took both women by surprise.  
“So, you’ve met.”  
“We have” the writer responds with less enthusiasm as the man before her.  
“Yeah, of course, the film festival."  
“Correct.”  
“Come on, I have some people I want you to meet” he says overjoyed to see the writer. Lexa was just as confused as Abby and looks to her for rescue, but she was still processing the interaction and she missed Lexa’s plea for help.  
“Um, ok?” she says unsure as he drags her across the room to some of his co-workers. Abby turns to her daughter who saw the entire scene unfold and shrugs her shoulder just as bewildered. Clarke knows that the writer tolerates very little and hoped that she would behave herself with these people. 

Lexa manages not to offend anyone too badly and gets away with being the lovable asshole by which the people in the industry were highly entertained. The nerdy writers all had fanboy crushes on her and the actors appeared interested in her other talents for which she was notorious. Anya and Raven notice and look on completely entertained and curious to know where Roan was going with this. After losing twenty minutes of her life to his work people he graciously pulls her aside.

“I’m so glad you made it. What are you drinking? Whiskey?”  
“Um, yeah, neat. Thanks” he pours for both of them.  
“I’ve been wanting to spend some time with you.”  
“Why?” she asks with an honest and direct tone. He picks up that she wasn’t falling for his bullshit so he decides to take the honest approach. He looks around as a caution and leads the writer to the front of the house where there was no one. No one sees them separated from the life of the party. Lexa’s not sure where this is going but never could have never prepared for what came next. 

“I need a favor” he was serious, and Lexa appreciated that he cut the ass kissing act but was still completely thrown by his words. _Why me? _she thinks.__  
“Come again?”  
“Look, Lexa, work isn’t what I thought it would be.”  
“What did you expect?”  
“A buddy of mine hooked me up with this job but I wasn’t exactly the boss’s first choice.”  
“That’s pretty much how it works out here, Roan.”  
“I get it, but I can't afford to lose this job. I’ve got a target on my back. She wants something big from me or I’m done.” Lexa’s gaze lowers as he says it. _Eh, can’t be that big _she thinks. “Jesus, no!” he says a bit disconcerted. “She wants a big name to come onto the show.”__  
“Ok, so you want me to convince O to do it?”  
“No, she doesn’t want O.”  
“Then I don’t know how I can-” she realizes then what Roan was asking her seeing the look of desperation in his eyes. “Oh no, no, no. Please, don’t ask me to do this.”  
“Please, Lexa. She wants you to be the guest writer for a few episodes.”  
“Fuck no.”  
“I need this job. We just bought this house and I don’t want Clarke to have to work when she could be focusing on her next project.” And there it was, the kryptonite he had been saving for this exact moment.  
“I don’t think she’d mind. She’s a good multi-tasker.” He gives her a look as if he were stupid enough to believe what Lexa just said. Truth was, Clarke wouldn’t mind, but both knew that her art is more important than his job, his means to an end. If she could put her energy into her passion it would be more lucrative for them and healthier for her in the long run.

____

____

“She’s also been busy with the wedding and the move. Lexa, please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t desperate.” As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t hate the guy. He genuinely cared for Clarke’s wellbeing, he didn’t treat her like property, and wasn’t a total douche save his pony tail. She recognizes his sincerity and thinks ultimately of the artist, her kryptonite.  
“Ok, I’ll do it.”  
“Yes! Thank you!” He’s overjoyed and almost squeezes the life out of her.  
“Whoa, take it easy, bro.”  
“Sorry, I’m just, so grateful, you don’t know what this means to me.”  
“Only for three episodes.”  
“Ok, Anya will hear from our people this week. They can work it out.” The two are interrupted by a woman who looked a decade younger than her real age. She had an imposing posture, standing taller than the two writers and ice blue eyes that pierced through any walls that were raised to fend off her intimidation. A frenzy of dirty blonde hair fell down to her solid shoulders, long toned arms and legs were a nice supporting cast to her robust chest and voluptuous hips. Lexa couldn’t deny the alpha’s sexual appeal.

“Roan, there’s some people I want you to introduce me to before I go.” She asserts in her queenly voice. No ‘hello’, no ‘who the hell is this?’ just the directive.  
“Lexa, this is my mother, Nia. Mom, this is Lexa Woods” the woman turns to her and eyes her up and down.  
“A pleasure, Nia” Lexa says offering her hand to the woman who gladly takes it as her gaze remains firmly on the writer.  
“The pleasure is all mine. Roan, you didn’t tell me that you were friends with the infamous Lexa Woods” she says with a passive aggressive disdain.  
“We’re more of acquaintances of circumstance” Lexa clarifies. She looks to Roan who seems to have mastered dealing with the woman’s verbal abuse that she imagines he’s endured his entire life.  
“Lexa and I will be working together on the show.” The woman’s eyebrows rise and her interest deepens.  
“Well, your studio is very lucky to have gotten such an impressive talent” her disapproval of his work and of him drips through her words. “Tell me, Lexa. Are you in need of representation? because we both know that you can do better.” The writer looks to Roan who appears to have lost agency in her presence.  
“No, nope. I’m good in that department. I’m doing this for the opportunity to work with this talented guy” she says with enthusiasm putting her arm around him to show her support. Nia was suspicious and doubted that her son had that kind of pull with the most sought-after writer in Hollywood.  
“I see. Well, if you change your mind, here’s my card. You and I could do great things together” she says with a confidence that normally would turn the dark-haired woman on, but her instincts were telling her that _this bitch be crazy! _“I’ve got some ideas for your _Penelope _if you’re interested.”  
“Thank you, Nia, but I’ve got my plate full with your brilliant son at the moment. Now, if you’ll excuse me I am in need of a refill” she gives his shoulder one last squeeze accompanied with a reassuring look telling him to keep fighting before she leaves mother and son. ____

_____ _

Lexa couldn’t get out of there fast enough. The woman left a bad taste in her mouth. She felt for Roan, no one deserves to be treated like that, specially not by their mother. She finds her people and feels better immediately. 

 

“How are you holding up, Heda?” her brother asks.  
“Quite the evening so far. Full of unwanted surprises.”  
“You and Roan seem to have hit it off” Rae points out.  
“He’s got the biggest man crush on you” O observes.  
“I like the guy, but his mother is a piece of work” she says downing her well-deserved beverage. “Oh, expect a call from his people this week, An.”  
“What? I knew it. You need an adult with you at all times.”  
“Calm down, tiger mom. I’m doing Roan a favor.”  
“You mean you’re doing Clarke a favor” her agent corrects. Raven hits her to be nice to the writer.  
“Well whatever. You were bitching about me not working, and now I have work, so make the magic happen because we all know I could use the cash.”  
“Will you have time to work with Indra? You’re a horrible multi tasker” the taller woman reminds the writer what she knew about herself but wasn’t concerned. That’s why she liked her gig with Indra, they get to call the shots and their creative process didn’t have to be stifled by a major production company’s deadline.  
“I’ll manage.” They carry on until finally Clarke makes her way over to the group. Lexa stops listening to her people and doesn’t notice the girl accompanying the blonde. It was one of the debilitating effects of kryptonite, tunnel vision, loss of use of her senses and the inability to form coherent sentences. 

Clarke in turn becomes more radiant in the presence of the dark, brooding writer in her usual dark jeans and torn t-shirt combo and her hair pulled back to reveal that undeniably sexy undercut. She smiles to keep from licking her lips recognizing her incontrollable attraction to the brunette’s look.

“Hey” she says as Lexa goes in for a kiss on the cheek and hug.  
“Hi, finally” she says dramatizing her impatience. “You are breathtaking” Clarke rolls her eyes and hates that her complexion reveals her too easily.  
“Clarke! Hey” they all chant none of them having too much time with the busy hostess, but also knowing they had all night and day to gossip about everyone and everything.  
“Hi guys. I want you to meet Roan’s sister.” An auburn haired young woman with dark wintry eyes steps forward with a sweet innocent smile that was greeted with a positive wave of energy from the group, except for the writer who was frozen upon making eye contact with the girl who knew exactly who she was. “Ontari, these are my friends.” She shakes everyone’s hand with a smile and then gets to Lexa.  
“Hi, I think we’ve met” she says unassumingly not wanting to draw too much attention to the fact that they in fact crossed paths in the not so distant past.  
“Um, no, I don’t think so” the writer says looking directly into her eyes and gripping her hand firmer to warn her not to fuck around.  
“Huh, you look so familiar” she says enjoying the affect she has on the usually relaxed writer, similar affects as Kryptonite. “Yeah, that’s it. I met you at the New Year’s party.” The writer’s entire body quivers but luckily her sidekick was with her.  
“You’re right. I was there too” Anya introjects “I offered you my card even though you already had an agent.” The girl vaguely remembers but her mind was focused on her client.  
“Right, sorry, still a bit murky” the writer says playing stupid as she rubs the back of her head. Ontari smiles slyly at the writer, impressed that she avoided yet another disaster.  
“No, worries. Now that I think of it you were pretty trashed. I think you ended up leaving with some girl before the ball drop.” She says putting on an award-winning performance for her friends. Clarke is not surprised but nor is she completely unaffected hearing about the writer’s sexual promiscuity.  
“Yup, that sounds about right” Raven confirms.  
“Anyway, it’s nice to meet all of you. Clarke always talks about how wonderful her friends are” she says then turns to Lexa. “Although, she’s never mentioned you. How do you two know each other again?” She looks to Clarke.  
“Lexa is my ex from years ago. Now, she’s part of the group.” She explains still unable to believe it when she says it out loud.  
“Yes, Clarke is very important to me” Lexa emphasizes.  
“Aww, that’s sweet. It’s so nice to see exes getting along. Not very common in my generation.” The writer is sweating and swallows hard.  
“Excuse me, I uh, need a refill. Anyone else?” they all shake their head no, so with a final forced grin directed to Clarke, she walks away for a much-needed drink. 

 

***  
She heads outside for some air and to collect herself. She smokes a few cigarettes and enjoys her temporary solitude with her whiskey. She was ready to go, but she barely had time to talk to Clarke. Another twenty minutes pass as she’s joined by the last person she wanted to see.

“I have to say, I’m pretty impressed.”  
“What the fuck?” She says flustered and almost dropping her drink.  
“Relax, Heda. It’s just me.” The dark eyed beauty says walking closer to the writer who was trying to keep a distance. “What’s the matter?”  
“You, are, trouble” she says walking away from her.  
“I thought you liked trouble.” She continues their game of cat and mouse.  
“No, not anymore and certainly not with you.” Ontari smiles a devious smile. “This is just way too incestuous, even for me.”  
“Don’t worry, I won’t blow your cover. I like Clarke, she’s like the big sister I always wanted. It’ll be our little secret.”  
“I appreciate you understanding the delicacy of the situation.”  
“I may be fucked up, but I’m not cruel” the writer agreed with her accurate self-assessment and couldn’t really blame her after meeting her mother.  
“You’re a nice girl, Ontari and I do genuinely like you and your brother.”  
“I believe you, Heda.”  
“Speaking of which, why is your mom so hard on him?”  
“Because he had the balls to leave when he turned 18 and not be controlled by her” she says without hesitation.  
“Why does he put up with it?”  
“For me. He came back for me.” Lexa was touched by the sibling love that she could relate to, but it was overshadowed by a curiosity that was eating away at the writer and one that she wish she could ignore.  
“How old are you, Ontari?” The girl hesitates, caught in her words, revealing too much to the writer.  
“Ummm… I just turned 18 last month” she says apologetically. 

“Fuck my life” The writer was befuddled.  
“What’s the big deal?”  
“Big deal?! You told me you were 20!”  
“And you believed me?”  
“Ontari, we had sex when you were still a minor! That’s against the law!”  
“It was consensual, it’s not like you raped me.” The girl was naïve and young and honestly did not understand the gravity of the situation that she’s put the writer in by lying about her age.  
“Actually, it’s called statutory rape” the writer specifies. “Goddammit! Why am I such a fucking idiot?! Fucking asshole!”  
“Jesus, Heda. This self-hate is a real turn off.”  
“Do not ever say or think anything sexual about me again. Understand?” She says firmly.  
“Not a problem” she says still not all that concerned. “Look, no one knows, and no one is going to find out. Like I said, I’m not cruel. Also, I don’t need that drama or publicity.” The writer believed her but couldn’t help but feel absolutely fucked. Finally, the door opens with a group of people leaving. Ontari is tired of serious Heda and decides to return to the party. “Can we just forget we had this conversation?”  
“I really want to.”  
“Ok then, done. See you around.” She says nonchalantly walking away. The writer hoped to the Gods that it was as easy as that.

***  
It was late and most people were making an exit as Lexa finally finds Clarke alone in the kitchen.  
“Hey”  
“Hi, are you ok?”  
“Yeah, just taking a break.” The blonde relaxes and steps out of her heels for a moment.  
“I’m impressed by your stamina to power through the day with all these personalities, in heels no less.”  
“Thanks, it’s been like a carnival.”  
“Tell me about it.”  
“You’ve behaved yourself today.” She wants her to know she appreciated her getting along with Roan.  
“Well you know, Anya made sure that I took my meds.” The things that came out of the writer’s mouth never ceased to baffle the blonde as she snickers and shakes her head.  
“Thank you. Roan is a big fan of yours, I’m surprised he didn’t ask you to sign his books.”  
“He’s a good guy” the artist was happy to hear that from her friend. “but something’s got to be done about that pony tail.” Their laughter is interrupted by Lincoln popping in with the safe words.  
“Hey, it’s late we should get going” he gives Clarke a quick hug and continues on to say his goodbyes to the rest.  
“Well, that’s my cue and my ride.”  
“Can I go with you?” The blonde whines. She was over hosting her house warming party and of course the writer would want nothing more.  
“I don’t know how Roan would feel about that.”  
“Yeah, he’d be pissed that he wasn’t invited” the blonde jests and this time the brunette can’t keep a straight face. She hugs the writer and holds on, finding comfort in familiar arms.  
“Welcome home, Clarke.”


	9. Without Verve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and comments!  
> Brief mentions of deaths of parents.

“I can’t believe Lexa is actually working for television.”  
“Yeah, I was surprised when Roan told me.”  
“What did he say exactly?” her mother asks trying to understand.  
“That she cordially accepted his producer’s request to have her be a guest writer for a few episodes.”  
“Oh, right” she says still a bit confused. The writer was notorious for her criticism of the entertainment industry and the media, often her rants ended with self-loathing in recognition in her personal role as a participant thereby adding to the problem.  
“Maybe, she’s bored.” Clarke is not aware of her boyfriend’s predicament at work. She believes that Lexa’s decision has nothing to do with her.  
“Maybe she just needs the money” Abby suggests based off of the very little that she knows about the writer’s life.  
“I’m glad it worked out.”  
“It’s nice to see you three getting along.”  
“I wasn’t expecting it to go so smoothly, but Roan’s been so understanding of the situation.”  
“It’s refreshing, and Lexa seems like she’s starting to get her life in order.”  
“I hope so, if that’s what she wants.”  
“How are you doing with her?” Abby finally feels like it’s a good time to ask.  
“Um, ok. I think it’s a healthy step for us both. You know, part of our closure and moving on.”  
“If you say so.”  
“I do say so” she says bothered by her mother’s response.  
“Just be careful, Clarke. She hurt you once.”  
“She can’t hurt me as her friend.” Abby knows this, and from what she's heard and seen, Lexa was a good friend. But, she’s seen how they look at each other and the affect the writer continues to have on her.  
“I know, honey. You’re right. I just-”  
“There’s nothing to worry about. We’re friends. I’m with Roan. End of story.” The blonde says defensively in her attempts to reassure both her mother and herself. They both desperately wanted to believe her words.

Abby remembers how devastated Clarke was all those years ago. She couldn’t believe that Lexa actually did it, after meeting the writer and seeing how much she loved the artist. Nevertheless, she knows her daughter, and as much as she wants to believe that she’s moved on and is happy with her new partner, she can tell that there is something missing. Unfortunately, she has to let her figure it out for herself and all she can do is be there for her, something she wasn’t able to do when was grieving all through Clarke’s high school and college years. Moving to LA not only saved Abby with work, but it provided Clarke with family in the Blakes who went through a similar situation of their father passing at a young age. The two have since patched up their relationship and have been close for the past ten years. A big part of her decision to move back was to be with her mother and get to know Cane, her boyfriend for the past year, In the end, what’s most important to the eccentric, adventurous, free spirited artist, is her people, her family. 

 

***  


Lexa couldn’t believe that she was actually working, as in she woke up for the past week and got dressed to be somewhere before noon. 

“Lexa, hey!” she doesn’t know if she’ll ever get used to Roan’s morning greetings.  
“Roan” she says grimacing as she takes a sip of her coffee.  
“How are you?”  
“Peachy.”  
“Great, great. I gotta tell you, my bosses are very happy, which means job security for me.”  
“It’s only been a couple days. I literally haven’t written a word.”  
“Just having you here day to day gives the crew confidence that the show won’t get canceled.”  
“If they think I’m the answer than you’ve got bigger problems.” Roan seems to have taken the approach of ignoring all of the writer’s insight as witty and accurate as they were.  
“So, today we’re going to meet the actors and do a read through.”  
“Yay” she response without verve. “Is there something stronger than coffee around here? I’m gonna need it to get through the day.” Roan lets out a guffaw but then realizes that she wasn’t joking.  
“It’s not even 10:00, Lexa.”  
“Is that a no?”  
“Absolutely no drugs, no alcohol.”  
“Doesn’t hurt to ask.”

Lexa survives the read through, only dozing off a few times immediately waking herself up once her neck couldn't sustain her dead weight. No one seemed to notice except for an actress who had taken a liking to the writer’s disinterest. After the read she makes her interest known.

“How was your nap?” She asks walking up to the writer as she refilled her coffee.  
“Very uncomfortable.” She says rubbing her neck.  
“I can help you with that, I’m pretty good with my hands”  
“Is that so?” the writer was pretty sure that she shouldn’t engage with the temptress, but really could use a neck rub.  
“What are you doing after this circus?” the writer smiles, liking her spunk. She then sees Roan approaching.  
“So, what did you think?” he interrupts.  
“I could use more lines.” The girl interrupts right back.  
“Lexa, you’ve met Claire” _right, that’s her name _the writer thinks as she had forgotten from the general introductions.__  
“Yeah, we were actually having a conversation.”  
“About what?” he asks completely clueless.  
“I was telling Lexa about a massage place not too far from here.”  
“Nice. Clarke has been seeing a masseuse for the past month. I’m sure she could pass you the info.” The actress stood there in shock at his disregard for her presence.  
“Anyway, I’ll be around. Find me if for that massage if you’re interested” she winks before leaving the two writers. Lexa took the time to appreciate her departure, the most interesting part of her week by far.

____

“How is it so easy for you?” The brunette was taken back by the question.  
“What?”  
“They throw themselves at you. What’s your secret?”  
“You know better than I do, you have the ultimate prize” she reminds him.  
“True, I guess I didn’t believe what your friends would say about you, but now I’ve seen it all week.”  
“I gotta say, this conversation is making me a bit uncomfortable, Roan.” She had absolutely no desire to talk about her sex appeal with Clarke’s boyfriend. “I don’t want to get HR involved” she jokes  
“Right, sorry very unprofessional. Anyway, maybe we can get together this weekend and go over some-” Lexa stops him.  
“Isn’t that the point of me coming to work? I like you, bud, but my days off are kind of sacred, especially now that I only have three of them.” Why he would choose to spend time with her when he had Clarke waiting at home for him was beyond the writer.  
“Oh, of course, yeah. Um, well maybe you can just come over for dinner on Sunday” he suggests. His persistence confuses the hell out Lexa. She wasn’t sure if he wanted something from her or if truly does have a man crush on the writer.  
“Well, I tend not to turn down decent meals” she says considering the proposal out loud.  
“Great! I’ve got some work to finish before I leave but I’ll see you this weekend.”  
“Alright, thanks, see you.” She says in her usual monotone indifference as he walks off. She looks around the room and stretches her neck. She really could use some TLC so she heads off to find the actress. As she finds herself in front of her dressing room her phone vibrates in her pocket. 

_Clarke: Hi _  
_Clarke: Did you survive your first week?_ __

____

_____ _

The writer completely forgot what she was doing and continued to walk and text.

 _Lexa: Hello ___  
_Lexa: Barely_  
_Clarke: O and I are getting massages tomorrow if you want to join us_  
_Lexa: You are a mind reader! Witch!_  
_Clarke: Haha_  
_Clarke: Roan mentioned your ailment. Falling asleep during the read through huh?_  
_Lexa: I’m not built for this kind of life_  
_Clarke: Hang in there._  
_Clarke: See you tomorrow at ten?  
_Lexa: Wouldn’t miss it__

_____ _

_____ _

That was a pleasant way to end her first official work week. She leaves the establishment with a skip to her step and a half smile on her face. The sun was shining, skies were blue for her ride to the other side of the city with plenty of time to get to the Night Blood’s game. 

 

***

“Lincoln told me that you’ve got yourself a good old-fashioned job” the colossal man says to his niece.  
“It’s more of a favor” she says as the bar tender pours her usual whiskey and his beer.

Another win for the Night Bloods was followed by their ritual drinks at the hole in the wall next to Gustus’s tattoo studio. He’s owned the place for the past 25 years and was a staple in the neighborhood. His business has supported his sister and her kids when she fell ill. Unexpectedly, it has also became a safe space for troubled youth with nowhere to go, including his own niece and nephew. Since the writer’s success started, she has since poured money into the place allowing him to create a community center for the neighborhood kids with interest in the arts or sports. Since Lincoln never left LA, he has always been involved hands on helping with fitness programs while Lexa only recently started taking a more active role with the basketball team. 

“So, are you going to tell me what you’re thinking, or do I need to ask?”  
“I don’t know what I’m thinking.”  
“What are you trying to get out of this?”  
“I’m just helping a friend out.”  
“This friend is romantically involved with Clarke.”  
“No, no Uncle, this friend is Clarke” she corrects.  
“Does she know?”  
“I don’t plan on telling her, that’s pony tail’s deal.”  
“So, what? you’re just going to linger in the friend zone waiting for her to change her mind one day?”  
“It seems that way doesn't it” the giant shakes his head and smirks. “I put myself in this situation.”  
“It’s not you, I’m concerned for. I know how you feel about her, how you always have.”  
“If it’s not my pathetic pining that you speak of then what, dear Uncle?”  
“Have you thought about what this is doing to her? You’re not allowing her to live her life without your shadow.” The writer lets his words sink in. There’s always been an awareness, but the circumstance came out of nowhere and before either of them knew it, there they were flirting with the concept of friendship, to keep the peace, to finally move on and maybe even be happy.  
“That’s what I was doing when I first abandoned her. She’s the one that came back into this web. I tried to set her free.”  
“It makes sense when I hear you say it” he says surprised by the logic of her inexcusable behavior.  
“Neither of us expected this, I guess we’re just winging it.”  
“Just be careful, I see how she looks at you” there was no denying that they have a connection that goes beyond logic or emotions, but it’s not enough. The reality is that they are two incredibly flawed women trying to navigate the rough seas, just like everyone else. Making friends along the way seems like a viable option.  
“I’m not forcing anything. We collectively decided to be friends” Gustus remains unconvinced. “Why she thought that was a good idea is beyond me, but I learned my lesson. I won't presume to know what's best for her. She makes her decisions.” There was no argument just a sigh of concern. The bartender pours them another round.  
“You read my mind” the giant says to his friend as they clink glasses.  
“To the unscripted life” the writer declares. Gustus, Anya and Lincoln have kept her afloat on the volatile waves of the grand expanse of life. They were anchors, nevertheless, she still hasn’t found the shore.

 

_Over 20 years ago ___

____

 

 _It was a hot summer day when the green-eyed girl became an adult. Standing in the burning asphalt parking lot of a motel off of the highway, she looks into the distance where she sees a pool with a few kids jumping in, laughing and carrying on. The air was suffocating. She was relieved to see her uncle walk towards her._  
_“Are you sure you want to do this?”_  
_“Yeah, I’m sure.”_  
_“Do you want me to go with you?”  
_“No” she says looking at the door from which her uncle appeared on the first level of the building. Before he could say anything else, she walks away. She pushes the door open and steps through the threshold. A man stands from his seat and puts out his cigarette.__

_____ _

__

_“Lexa, it’s me.” His voice quivered, he was nervous. He was amazed by how the young woman in front of him but still saw his little girl._  
“I know who you are.” She doesn’t move a muscle, stoic and unperturbed she stands her ground before the man that abandoned them when she was ten years old. He hasn’t bothered making any appearances in their lives and the sixteen-year old was surprised he showed up at all to pay his respects to his first wife. He was a handsome man with dark features and bronzed complexion. He had similar way about him as his daughter. She hated that she could see the resemblance and that she possessed good memories with the man. She hated that he was there while her mother’s ashes lie in an urn in the home they once shared. But she would not give into her emotions, for they would get her nowhere. Indifference is the only way for her to move forward, to survive. __  
_“Where’s your brother?” ___  
_“He doesn’t want to see you.”_  
_“Thank you for meeting me” she doesn’t respond. “Please, sit down.”_  
_“No. I prefer to stand” there was no use arguing with the girl, so he keeps his distance._  
_“Did Gustus tell you what we decided?”_  
_“Yes.”_  
_“I just wanted to tell you that I love you and Linocln. And, that I’m sorry.” Who does this guy think he’s fooling? He leaves his wife and two kids for his gambling addiction and wants forgiveness now that their mother has lost her excruciatingly painful battle with cancer. Hell, if she was going to let Lincoln deal with his guilt or give him the satisfaction of any human emotion let alone forgiveness._  
_“I don’t want you to ever contact Lincoln again.” Her tone is firm and robotic. He’s surprised by her directive and the controlled insistence behind it._  
_“Lexa, it doesn’t have to be-” She cuts him off._  
_“It would only confuse and hurt him more” the boy was six when he left and was already causing problems with his habits and was absent for most of his sons early years. She was right, there was no need for reconciliation, especially when nothing has changed. “Thank you, for not fighting Gustus for custody. It’s the one good thing you’ve done for us.”_  
_“What about you?” he and his daughter have always had a bond that he’s tried to maintain with unanswered letters that were more for him, to keep him alive, than they were for her._  
_“I’m not your concern.”  
_“You can wear this mask, Lexa, you might even fool yourself, but one day, you’ll break.” She wanted nothing more than to unleash all of her anger and pain on him to physically hurt him the way he psychologically scarred them all these years. Instead she remains composed her pupils engulfing her irises, dark beady eyes staring straight at the lesser man before her. “Hate me all you want. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m your father. We’re blood, you and I are the same.”  
_“I don’t hate you.” The man has nothing left, nothing could have prepared him for this onslaught of indifference. “If there’s nothing else, Gustus is waiting.” They stand in silence for a moment longer, then she turns towards the door.  
_“Lexa-”  
_“Goodbye.” She doesn’t look back as she walks outside. She waits in the car as her uncle goes back into the motel room._____

_____ _

_____ _

“Take care of them, Gus.”  
_“I will.”_  
_“I do love them, you know. In my own way.”  
_“You know, you use certain words enough times, they start to lose their meaning.” The man wasn’t sure how to take it and it really didn’t matter. “Take care of yourself, Alex.”__


	10. Tattoos, Tuxedos and Dressing

“Ugh, An!” the writer whines making herself comfortable on at the table as Raven serves her breakfast. “I don’t know if I can do this gig anymore.” It’s been three weeks.  
“You’re the one that agreed to this” she says without an ounce of sympathy for the writer.  
“I swear I’m getting sexually harassed every day. If it’s not an actor then it’s Roan’s boss, who's a little loony.”  
“Poor baby” Raven says facetiously.  
“What’s the big deal? You normally seek this kind of attention.”  
“I have to see them every day. That’s the problem. I can’t just ditch them after one night.”  
“Sounds like you found out the hard way” Raven says.  
“Yes, unfortunately.” Her friends look each other and roll their eyes. “It’s not ideal.”  
“A couple more months, Lex. Suck it up.”  
“Fine, but I’m not happy about it and I’m going to complain daily.”  
“Glad you’re being mature about this.”  
“And, I’m playing hooky with your woman today.”  
“As long as you have an adult with you at all times” she says kissing Raven goodbye before heading out. ¬“See you tonight, baby” she says to her lover.  
“Love you sugar plum!” Lexa responds. 

 

***  
“I can’t believe you convinced me to go with you” the writer says.  
“Yeah, I really twisted your arm” the Latina deadpans. Lexa had no interest in dress shopping but immediately jumped on board when she mentioned Clarke.  
“I think we all know that I’m pretty helpless when it comes to her.”  
“That’s safe to say.” They arrive at the high-end boutique where Clarke, Aurora and O were waiting with their champagne at hand. They were surprised but happy to see the unexpected guest.  
“Heda!” O hugs her with enthusiasm.  
“Little one! I heard there would be booze” she says  
“Of course you did” Clarke says. “Playing hooky, huh?”  
“You’re not going to snitch on me, are you?”  
“We’ll see, I like having leverage on you.”  
“Trust me, you have more than you think” the Latina jokes evoking a dirty look from the writer causing the blonde to ignore the comment.

The women were showed to their dressing rooms with the dresses they picked while Lexa relaxed on the sofá eating pastries and drinking champagne. She gave her opinion when asked and was highly entertained. Clarke came out in a simple off the shoulder chiffon black dress. The writer’s jaw drops as she walks towards her. Her eyes run up her legs that were toned with the heels, to her dress that feel just above the knees and hugged her cleavage nicely. 

“What do you think? Too much skin?”  
“Uhh… umm… No, it’s perfect” she finally manages completely awestruck. “You look stunning, Clarke” she says walking towards her. Somehow her eyes got to the blonde.  
“Thanks” she says looking down at the dress avoiding her green orbs. Then Lexa takes her hand and turns her around to look into the mirror. She looks up and sees Lexa behind her with her arms around her waist like they were taking prom pictures. Both are caught in the moment entranced by the reflection and immediately break away when O comes out in her dress. Everyone is in awe at her elegance, a classic beauty, sophisticated and poised.  
“Oh, honey” Aurora gasps.  
“Beautiful” the writer comments.  
“Wow, babe, that’s the one” Clarke insists.  
“Gorgeous” Raven adds after witnessing the writer’s moment with the blonde. 

Raven heads home for dinner with her woman, but Clarke stays after receiving a text from Roan saying he would be working late. They continue their planning well into the evening with Lincoln.  
“Who’s staying for dinner?” he asks as they all raise their hands. “There’s your count, Heda.”  
“Just keep the wine flowing.” It wasn’t often that the writer offered her culinary services, which made it a nice treat for her people.  
“This is a surprise” the blonde says joining her in the kitchen as the groom to be works out details for the wedding with his fiancé and her mother. She opens another bottle of wine.  
“That’s me full of surprises. I’ve been known to delight the palette every now and then.”  
“I remember” she says recalling romantic dinners she used to prepare for the blonde on a weekly basis years ago.  
“Are you here to make sure I don’t set the place on fire?”  
“Yes, strict orders from lady of the house. Do you need me to do anything? they’re pretty busy in there.” Lexa throws her an apron.  
“Keep my glass full and let’s see what you’ve got, sous chef. You’re on salad duty.” They fell into a familiar space of creative collaboration and playful exchange that neither have experienced in a very long time. Lincoln has never seen his sister act this way and enjoyed hearing her laughter.

“What’s this missing?” Clarke asks dipping her finger in the dressing then offering it to the brunette. They had finished a bottle between the two of them keeping them relaxed and loose. Lexa doesn’t hesitate to taste bringing them face to face, the closest they’ve allowed themselves to be. The writer licks her lips contemplating the flavor while looking directly into those cerulean globes. The blonde doesn’t know if she’s flushed from the wine, the heat in kitchen or from the sensation of Lexa’s mouth on her finger. Before their bodies take over completely, Octavia walks in.  
“It smells…” she was speechless catching the two less than an inch from grazing lips.  
“Sugar, definitely a pinch of sugar” the writer says as they simultaneously part.  
“Right, sugar. Ok, well we’re ready to serve” Clarke stammers obviously flustered. Octavia squints her eyes and plays along with her friends.  
“Well, it looks great. I’ll set the table”  
“I’ll help” Clarke blurts out. She can’t believe what just happened as she downs her wine to relax, although that’s part of what lead to her anxiety in the first place. Lexa’s senses were on overdrive and she had to get it under control. She can’t allow it to confuse their situation. She’s got her back in her life, she can’t lose her again. She hoped this wouldn’t change things between them or scare the blonde away. 

Clarke forces herself to get a Lyft home, although she would have rather spent the night at Octavia’s and would have if Lexa hadn’t decided to do the same. The artist didn’t trust her body and whatever emotions were conjured up from the evening with the wine and the fond memory of their once domestic bliss. So she plopped herself in bed next to her man, and tried hard not to smile when thoughts of the writer came to mind before falling into a deep slumber.

 

***  
The guys are suited up. Lincoln wants to make sure everyone looks damn good for his huge wedding blow out. The guests would be mostly his clients and Octavia’s colleagues, a mix of professional athletes, actors, dancers all from the entertainment industry. He’s been very successful with the connections through Anya and word of mouth. In fact, that’s how the lovely couple met. The young actress started out as his client a couple of years ago and they’ve been inseparable since. They come from the same world and understand each other’s career, lifestyle and schedule. After six months they move in together and they were engaged by the year. Now 3 moths before their wedding the groom in his white three-piece suit was helping his older sister, the woman that made sure he had everything necessary to be happy, healthy and successful in life, with her tie. 

“You realize this is coming off right after the ceremony”  
“I had this suit tailored for you, you’re going to make it look good through the mother and groom dance.” She looks to Gustus, Bellamy and Nyko who were looking in the mirror for adjustments with the help of the tailors. They all wore the same black tuxes, white shirt with black suspenders and tie. She was glad he kept it simple with the classic, clean cut look.  
“No promises” he smirks and shakes his head. She looks at the man before her and seeing how far he’s come made her a bit emotional. “You look good, Linc.” She says changing her tone to express a heartfelt sentiment that comes out very rarely and often at subtle inopportune moments. Her people know how she feels about them and who she really is beyond her misanthropic façade. He smiles recognizing her endearment.  
“Thanks, Heda.”  
“Linc, I have to get to work.” Bellamy says  
“Ok, I just need some pictures before you go.” They gather and do a series of pictures varying from serious, playful and candid shots. The group actually enjoyed it more than they expected, and Clarke’s phone was bombarded with dozens of images.  


“What in the-?” she says looking at her phone  
“What?” O asks as she, Raven and her mom were tasting cake.  
“It’s the guys, they have their tuxes.”  
“Ohhhhh let me see!” Raven squeals.  
“Great! Everyone is on schedule” the bride to be says not at all interested in the pictures trusting her girls had it under control. “So, there’s just a few more things for you and Heda to organize within the next few weeks. But mom’s got the rest covered right?” Aurora nods her head with her mouth full of red velvet.  
“Yeah, then it’s rehearsal dinner, bachelorette party and wedding bells!” the Latina exclaims as she looks through the pics with Clarke. “Damn! They look good!” she says looking at a candid one of Lexa and Lincoln laughing. “You are marrying into the sexy Woods genes, O.” Clarke was fixated on Lexa, her posture so relaxed in the moment with her brother, and of course the suit that fit her slender figure so flawlessly. She wasn’t proud of the feelings the writer continued to evoke in her.  
“Yeah, they’re alright.”

 

***  
The guys sit at their usual table in the corner of the bar with the a few of Gustus’s tattoo artists. One of them was their old friends Echo who had recently returned from her travels. She was responsible for a few of the tattoos on Lincoln and Lexa’s bodies and was Gustus’s prodigy. She and the writer had a casual arrangement for many years but have always been friends before anything else. They comfortably picked up right where they left off with their similar dark sense of humor and shared history.

“This is beautiful” Lexa says amazed by her friend’s latest ink on the back of her neck. Lexa was caressing the skin enjoying the sensation of the texture.  
“It hurt like a mother” Echo remarks. 

Clarke and O arrive as the writer continued to feel and examine Echo’s tattoos running along her neck and shoulders. Echo catches Clarke looking at them a bit irked.  
“Hi, sorry, don’t mind her. I’m Echo”  
“Clarke” Lexa says once again shocked by the blonde’s unheralded presence. “Hi, what are you doing here?”  
“I came with O.”  
“Right, of course” the writer says taking a seat and ecstatic to see her.  
“Hi! I’m Octavia” giving her a hug.  
“Yeah, nice to finally meet you.”  
“This is Clarke” the two artists look at each other unsure of how to engage, until Echo finally gives her a hug and the blonde realizes that there was no need to feel threatened. She was confused to feel anything at all. Lexa was a free woman always has been and her presence shouldn’t hinder her sexual prowess. Yet, recently, she’s had to deal with a torrent of new difficult emotions. She supposed that it was the friendship, but her body seems to be disconnected from her mind mystifying the artist. 

“Echo just came back from Southeast Asia” Gustus says to keep the flow going. “She was learning from traditional tattoo artists” Clarke was impressed as she’s done lots of work in the region.  
“Wow” the artist says recognizing the design on her arms. “You learned from Whang-Od?”  
“Yeah, how did you-?”  
“National Geographic did a piece on the Kalinga tribe many years ago and I was the photographer.”  
“No shit” Echo says pleasantly surprised. Of course, Lexa knew all this and expected the two to hit it off exchanging stories of their time there. Octavia learned things about her friend she’s never known, and the writer reveled in hearing Clarke talk about something she was passionate about. It brought back memories of when they first met. 

“It was an amazing experience.”  
“I bet. She’s a master. She doesn’t just tattoo anyone” Gustus explains.  
“Yeah, I learned so much from her. The whole time I was with her, I couldn’t help but think of the short story you wrote about your experience, Heda."  
“There’s nothing like it” the writer says recalling the experience and lasting impression of the traditional tapping method left on her spine. “She also did Clarke’s one and only, if that still holds true” she says looking the blonde.  
“You have a tattoo?” Octavia’s jaw dropped in shock.  
“I do.”  
“How do I not know this?”  
“Not many people do” she says a bit uncomfortable with the attention.  
“Let’s see it” her friend demands.  
“Umm, it’s not exactly viewable in public” they all look to Lexa who changes the subject.  
“Speaking of public spaces, Echo and Gustus are starting a public mural workshop this summer for the kids.” Clarke lights up at the idea bringing a mile to the writer’s face.  
“Wow that’s a great idea, I’ve been trying to get the museum to be more involved with the community.”  
“You’re welcome to join us. We could use the help” Gustus suggests.  
“Really?”  
“They don’t turn down free labor” the writer shares.  
“Really, Clarke. It would be so cool to have you around this summer” Echo says genuinely, getting good vibes from the blonde.  
“That would be great. Thank you” her voice radiates sincerity and gratitude.

 

_Over 8 years ago ___

____

_Clarke studied the caramel skin that reflected a tremulous light. Her hands glided along the smooth surface outlining the curves of the woman’s thighs, hips, side to shoulders where she leaves gentle marks with her mouth evoking soft moans causing the woman to lay on her stomach. Back exposed, the artist leaves a trail down her spine with her lips and tongue. Her fingers take over, grazing the intricate design that extended over the entirety of Lexa’s spine. ___

____

_“Did it hurt?”_  
_“Yes” she murmurs._  
_“What does it mean?”_  
_“It means that I have a long way to go.” The artist smirks fascinated by the meticulous details of the design and can’t imagine the pain and patience needed to undergo the process.  
_“These symbols are divine to the tribe. She saw something in you."__

__

_The writer was changed after the excruciating pain of the ritual she underwent with the master. She wasn’t only inked, she was blessed, the tattooist saw something in the writer and there was an exchange of energy between the two. Her design was to protect her on her journey, she warned her that it would be full of trials and obstacles, but that she would make it back home with the guidance of the Gods. That’s all the writer needed was another person telling her that she was somehow special. She turns to face the golden-haired woman radiant and beaming before her._

_The writer was anything but spiritual, but her time vagabonding through the pacific islands has changed her cosmovision. There was something there, the space, the energy of the people and environment that softened the writer. She put her guard down and melded with her environment. She was vulnerable, penetrated by others’ gazes, energies. She was evolving, then the encounter that would transform her entire being._

__

_“She saw something in you, Sky Girl.”_  
_“I spent a lot of time with her tribe, she doesn’t do this design just for anyone.”  
_

___“It’s to remind me that I’m never alone” she says moving the artist’s hair away from her face before kissing her lips with a tenderness that makes the blonde almost forget about her curiosity. “Why do they call you Sky Girl?” the brunette asks positioning the blonde on her back as she kisses her neck down to her the base of her left breast teasing her to get to the tattoo hidden on the side of her rib. The blonde moans wondering how she ended up there, in bed with the mysterious tourist she encountered on the island._  
_“My spirit” she gasps as the brunette ghosts her lips along the side of her torso, “is…” each caress causes her hair to rise. “free… like air…” she swallows her moans. “like… the sky” she manages.  
_

__

_Clarke had been living and with the Kalinga for the past month and as the crew was finishing up the project she meets the green-eyed wanderer. She arrives alone and is immediately received well by the village, it was not a typical reception of foreigners. They truly felt connected with the stranger and the photographer’s interest was piqued. The brunette was instantly affected by the blue-eyed beauty’s presence, her gaze upon her. The circumstance played itself out and their meeting seemed like fate, something they’ve both waited for all their lives. Their connection, uncanny and both could do nothing but surrender._


	11. Latent

4 weeks before the wedding

“Roan, we’re home, we brought su-” Clarke announces as she walks into the media room where she finds Roan and Lexa playing Assassin’s Creed.  
“Hey, hon” Roan says without taking his eyes off of the game. He had his hair down and was the most relaxed she had seen him since their move to LA. “We’ll be done in a sec.” Lexa’s eyes wander towards her briefly and notices that Clarke was taken a back by her presence. They haven’t talked since the dressing incident over a week ago.  
“Ok, sushi’s in the kitchen” she says walking away and joining Ontari. 

“Lex, you want a beer?” Roan asks as they enter the kitchen where the two women sat eating their meal.  
“Hi, Heda” she says completely unfazed by the circumstance.  
“What the….? Ye-no” she says to the man totally caught off guard by Ontari who smiles sweetly at her. “I have to get going. ” Clarke thinks that it’s because of her and Roan is confused.  
“You sure? Why don’t you join us? there’s more than enough.”  
“No, no, you enjoy your family dinner. I-”  
“Don’t be ridiculous” Roan insists. “Sit down, relax. I’ll get you a beer.” Clarke get up to grab her a plate as Lexa sits with Ontari. The blonde gathers herself as the writer walks into one of her nightmares. The four of them sit in an awkward silence for a minute until Roan breaks it with inviting Lexa to hang out the following weekend.  
“This weekend I’m going on a friends yacht for a guys’ weekend. You should come along.”  
“You realize, that she’s not a guy” his sister points out.  
“Thanks for telling me, I had no idea” he responds being smart with the young girl who rolls her eyes.  
“As much as I enjoy our bromance, I am running out of weekends to plan for the wedding.”  
“Right, well if you change your mind let me know.”  
“Will do.” Clarke thought it was nice that the two got along so well and thought she had worked out the confusion from the previous week. It was Lexa’s peculiar behavior that was throwing her off. The writer looks around as the three share their day with one another, she shifts her gaze between the two women and wonders what kind of sick joke the Gods are playing on her. She doesn’t listen to a word being said as they finish their meal. She sees Clarke get up to clear the table and finally snaps out of her trance.

“I’ve got it” she blurts out. “Please, let me help.” Clarke doesn’t refuse the offer while Roan and Ontari chat in the sitting room as the two women are left alone in the kitchen.  
“Thanks for dinner.”  
“Yeah, no worries” she finally decides to clear the air about their last encounter in the kitchen while Lexa remains silent during cleaning up. “So, are we ok?”  
“Um, yeah. We’re ok” she says with confidence then immediately second guessing her response. “right?”  
“I mean, it was nothing. We’re friends and I don’t know, you seem bothered is all.”  
“Me? No, I- um, I’m fine. I shouldn’t have done it, and I’m sorry I put you in that situation.”  
“No, I’m sorry. Neither of us were thinking.” That’s what scared the blonde the most was how natural and easy it was to be with her friend to find a familiar comfort in her presence.  
“Right. No worries, our finger licking days are behind us.” The blonde smiles at her silliness.  
“Good, I’m glad.” They make eye contact just as Ontari announces her departure.  
“Bye, Clarke. See you next week.”  
“How are you getting home?”  
“I’ll call a Lyft.”  
“Maybe Lexa can take you” Roan suggests with Clarke on board with the idea.  
“Um, I don’t know if it’s safe for her.” She really didn’t want Ontari groping her as they cruise through the city.  
“She’ll be fine” Clarke assures after having experienced it.  
“I’m ok with it if Heda is” Ontari says looking to the writer who was put on the spot. She looks at Roan who admired her in an almost weird way and at Clarke who asked kindly with her eyes. She wasn’t getting out of this.  
“Ok, I guess.” 

The young girl held on tight and basked in the opportunity to touch the brunette. She behaved herself in front of her brother but she couldn’t deny her attraction that was heightened with Lexa’s aloof attitude all evening. All the writer could do was curse herself for getting herself into the ridiculous situation. 

“Thanks, Heda” the girl says handing her the helmet.  
“Sure” she says coldly not even looking at the girl as she takes it.  
“Oh, come on. No hug?”  
“Nope.”  
“We can be friends you know.”  
“No, Ontari, we can’t.”  
“You’re so dramatic” she continues reaching for her arm that Lexa denies her.  
“I’m serious. Do you realize how fucked up this is?”  
“I guess not.”  
“I’m sorry, but we can’t. Goodnight.” The girl was disappointed but doesn’t argue.  
“Fine.” With that she turns and walks into her house without looking back. This left a sinking feeling in the brunette’s stomach. She’s never felt this kind of stress before, incessantly eating away at her. She desperately wanted to cut it out of her system. But she could do nothing but trust in the misguided girl who, just like the rest was doing her best with the cards she was dealt. How the writer wished she would have just folded rather than have played the hand at that not so distant New Year’s party. 

 

***

“Looking good, ladies!” Lexa calls out to her friends who were cleaning up the painting supplies. “The mural isn’t bad either” she lifts her aviators as she delivers her punchline.  
“Nice one, Heda” Echo says with a snicker.  
“Don’t encourage her” Clarke says to her new friend and fellow artist.  
“Well, well, well” she says grabbing hold of Andre’s shoulders. “So you ditched your crew for your new hobby.”  
“Heda, hey. I’m exploring new interest in the arts” he defends.  
“Uh huh, I bet you are” she keeps her arms around his shoulders as they admire the women before them. “I can’t say I blame you, kid.”  
“How was the game?”  
“Pick and roll was on point today, but we were missing our trash talker.”  
“Sorry, Heda.”  
“Yeah, yeah.”  
“Hey, did you see Andre’s wall?” Clarke asks shaking her paint covered hands clean of dried clumps.  
“No! not until I finish” he says abruptly.  
“Whoa, relax, kid. I can wait.” Lexa looks to Clarke who smiles knowingly. “You ready to go?”  
“Yeah. Andre can you help Echo load her truck?”  
“On it.”  
“Thanks, I’ll see you next weekend. And great job today!””  
“Bye, Clarke” he says jogging to help Echo who waves to the two women.  
“He’s a natural artist” the blonde points out. “I can see why he gravitates towards you.”  
“He’s a good kid.” 

***  
“This won’t take long. Make yourself at home” the brunette says walking towards her room. She was filthy from being outdoors all day and needed a quick shower and to pick up some things for the planning session.  
“No worries.” The blonde takes a look around, her first time in the writer’s home. It’s slightly disorganized with books and papers scattered around her coffee table. Shelves filled with books line the walls, albums piled next to a record player in a corner. She had eclectic furniture, rugs and décor from her travels and nothing is new. There was a guitar and trumpet with sheet music in another room with a TV and art leaning against the walls next to some cushions. There’s a desk with a typewriter looking out the window and paper cluttered everywhere along with a few bottles of whiskey. It was so completely Lexa. 

Clarke imagined the life of this lonesome genius and recalled the days they shared together in her Brooklyn loft, two worlds converged into a small place so organically. It was never a struggle with two identities reflected in the same space. She thinks of her current home and how different her cohabitation with Roan was. They had their own spaces, but it was mostly neutral in the common areas. Even though she designed it, there was nothing that was distinctly Clarke or Roan, as if she as a third party, had designed it for the couple.

Lexa comes out of her room looking fresh in a black tshirt with dark jeans that she pulled off so well.  
“I’m ready”  
“You have a nice place, Lex.”  
“Thanks. Pretty ridiculous space for one person huh?”  
“No, it’s good. You work and play here” Clarke says understanding as she does the same. “Also, you’re welcoming people into your life.” _One person, _the writer thinks. All she’s managed to attract for the past five years are random one-night stands. But, there they were, standing in her home after years of trying to erase their past and live their lives without the other.  
“Maybe.” __

____

***  
Lexa gets the food and drinks ready while Clarke cleans up in her bathroom. They eat their Thai take out while they finalize the bachelor/ette parties and work on their speeches, and the video loop of the couple they plan to play at the reception.

“So, Ms. Anti-marriage, you have to admit that you’re kind of loving all of this.”  
“That’s a lot to admit.”  
“It’s ok, I won’t tell anyone.”  
“Maybe a little, I like the creative aspect of it.”  
“See, that wasn’t so bad.”  
“What about you?”  
“I’ve never been anti-marriage.”  
“Oh no?”  
“Not with the right person.” _Not with you, _her inner voice echoes.__  
“Oh, I see.”  
“Have you and Roan…” the writer suggests.  
“Have we what?”  
“Talked about it?”  
“He knows how I feel about it.”  
“How does he feel?”  
“He’s fine with it, I think.” She changes the subject. “They’re so grown up” Clarke says looking at their pictures of when they were in high school and of them as a couple.”  
“I know. It’s happening so quickly.”  
“Do you ever wonder how some people seem to have always known what they wanted and where they were going while how others, well, have no idea what they’re doing” the artist asks her friend.  
“I try not to think about it too much. I just know that I’ve been on what seems like an endless search.”  
“Yeah, I think we all are.”  
“What could you possibly be searching for? You’ve got it all: passion for work, family and love.”  
“Yeah, it seems that way. Sometimes I think my spirit will never be satisfied.”  
“Sky Girl, you have to be free.”  
“Yeah, I don’t know what that even means. I’m not not free. I’m not restrained in any way.”  
“You’re talking to the “freeist” person this side of the western world, and I’ve been trapped for years.”  
“Maybe we’re all trapped in our own fictions.” The two allow their ideas to set in for a moment before they finish their dinner and focus on their task. They had a way of getting distracted with their thoughts, it was something both did so well from the beginning and that they terribly missed in their time a part. 

____

“So, what do you have planned for next week?” Clarke asks.  
“Vegas baby!”  
“Typical.”  
“UFC, gambling, Good food, great drinks, and incomparable company.”  
“As in strippers?”  
“Wouldn’t you like to know”  
“I could care less.”  
“Yes, as in strippers.”  
“They’re hardworking ladies, tip well”  
“What do you take me for, Clarke. They will be well cared for, trust me. What about you and the ladies?”  
“O and I are sky diving, the others have opted out, but we’ll spend the weekend in Wine Country, spas, yoga, wine, food the works.”  
“Nice, very classy. My godchild will enjoy that.”  
“Yes, we all will.” 

The evening is full of laughter, reminiscence of happier days and banter. They finish a bottle of wine and around 1am complete their task. They watch the final product as they sit on the couch comfortably. A few minutes into it, Clarke relaxes into her shoulders. The writer instinctively makes room for her and wraps her arm around her friend. Both exhausted from the wine and day spent in the sun, they doze off. Lexa wakes momentarily when the video finishes and closes the laptop and gently attempts to get up seeing that it was past 2 am. Clarke half asleep starts to mumble and snuggles closer to the writer. 

“Stay” she murmurs and so the brunette does. She gives in to the artist surrendering to the moment rather than attempting to rationalize the moral implications of her actions.  
“Ok” she whispers readjusting and moving some cushions so that she was laying comfortably on the couch with the blonde in her arms. It was the best night’s sleep either have slept in ages.

 

***  
Two weeks before the Wedding 

“Are you ready?” Clarke asks her Octavia as they hold hands before the jump out of the plane. IT was perfect weather for their freefall to earth without a cloud in the sky.  
“Oh my god! We’re doing this!” the brown eyed girl’s heart rate increases as the guides count down. “Don’t let go” she says to her maid of honor.  
“Never.” Then they fall and the bride’s heart regulates they fall and find a peace as gravity takes over.  
“Clarke!”  
“Yeah babe!”  
“I’m scared!”  
“I’m here. Nothing will happen!”  
“No, I mean about marriage!” The blonde was not expecting that. I guess she thought it was a good time to release all of her anxieties as they fall thousands of feet from the ground.  
“You’re a fucking Queen, O! You’re going to make an amazing bride and partner!”  
“You think so?”  
“I know so!” The blonde never expected the forthright girl to have doubts. She’s always know what she wanted and stayed the course. Unlike the blonde, who’s been free falling since her father’s death, never having the grounding force until she fell in love with Lexa. Before they released their parachute, the blonde divulges a bit “I think I still have feelings for Lexa!” something she’s held onto for a while and what a relief it was to let it go. They pull the chord and the two look at each other in shock at what had just transpired they descend the rest of the way in silence.

***  
On their final night in Vegas, they hit the casinos after their steak dinner and the day at the pool recovering from the night on the strip with clubs and entertainment and UFC. Lincoln was on a roll at the poker table that had caught the attention of some. Lexa excuses herself to get some air once it becomes to much with the crowd gathering. She walks past a the blackjack tables and stops dead in her tracks when she hears a familiar voice. She turns to get a better look at the ragged old man swearing and clearly upset. He was too consumed in his drink, smoke and the game to notice anything around him, and Lexa was glad for that. There was no way she was going to let this situation play itself out. There was no way in hell her father would ruin her brother’s night. 

She was able to shake thoughts of her father after two shots, then she drifts to thoughts of Ontari and takes two more. Feeling the emptiness, she returns to Lincoln’s table where she observed her brother enjoying his time with their family: Anya, Nyko and Gustus who look after him as he shares his joy with all those around him. She looks to Bellamy and Echo who have made an instant bond and were entering the unknown together as they explore their feelings for each other. At that moment, all she can think of is Clarke and how good it felt to have her in her arms to feel her heart beat against hers. After years of drinking her away, there she was, accompanying her even in the most vacuous moments.


	12. Charybdis

“Clarke.” The blonde turns to meet the best woman’s eyes, who was in turn in awe of her golden waves half up in a simple style falling past her shoulders framing her face with such poise. She screamed elegance in her stunning black dress that seemed to hug all the right places showcasing her sensational curves. Clarke in turn was trying to keep her emotions that she had revealed to Octavia at bay. They have been spending so much time the entire week leading up to the wedding. Now, after the longest day, she needed to get through the longest night. She didn’t think it would be as difficult as it has been with all the events and people around, but it was. All she could think about was Lexa, holding her and kissing those lips.

The butterflies were out of control as she floated down the aisle completely honed-in on the writer’s eyes. Luckily everyone was fixed on the bride and groom and were oblivious to the heart eyes exchanged by the two women throughout the entire ceremony. Then the wedding pictures that seemed to always place them next to one another even for the candid playful shots. Clarke wondered why she had to look so damn good in a suit, and why she had to be so likable around her friends and family. Now, they enter into the evening of socializing, drinking and letting loose, of which the artist intends to do very little in order to maintain control. She had to stay afloat and not get sucked into the vortex of emotions that has been tugging at her.

“Hey.”  
“Are you ok?”  
“Yeah, just practicing my speech” she says even though she was looking over her notes she was just getting air and time away from the brunette. The writer knew that public speaking was not the blonde’s forte and believed her cover.  
“They need us lined up for the main event.”  
“Ok, I’ll be right there.” Lexa noticed that she was on edge, but didn’t realize it was mostly because of her. She walks up to her and takes her hand surprising the blonde and causing her entire body to tremble. She takes her speech and puts it in her pocket. “I need that.” Lexa interlaces her fingers with hers.  
“I’ll hold on to it for now. Right now, you need to relax” she says squeezing her hands to soothe her friend. “This is the fun part, get a feel of the space and energy and work off of that.” Lexa had been getting whiffs of the blonde all day and it was slowly intoxicating her, she was losing herself in her essence. The writer was a gonner. “Breathe, Clarke” she exhales. The blonde slows her breaths trying to gain composure.  
“How are you always so calm?”  
“Not always” Lexa confesses feeling her palpitations pulse through her veins. Clarke looks straight into her eyes having lost control of her movements she allows the frequencies to draw her closer. “Clar-” but before she could finish her utterance their lips meet and eyes close. There was nothing subtle about the encounter as they immediately devour each other. They knew this too well, ingrained in their muscle memory, they do their dance. 

Bellamy finally comes to find them and couldn’t believe what he saw. He’s immediately concerned and becomes protective of his friend. Whatever progress Echo had made on him regarding the writer’s character was surely lost after this incident.  
“Ahem” startled, the two women part. “It’s time, their calling out the party.” His tone was neutral and both women were glad it was solemn, discrete Bellamy and not anyone else. Clarke is in shock and again can’t believe her actions. How could she let this keep happening? All she knew was that she needed to avoid the writer the rest of the evening, she clearly cannot be near her, the draw of the undercurrent was to strong for her.  
“Ok” the writer says walking away refusing to look at Bellamy who was staring her down with his stern dark eyes. Clarke takes a moment to collect herself as she’s completely unhinged. She also attempts to also bypass her friend but she didn’t have the same luck as Lexa.  
“Clarke, are you ok?”  
“No, I’m not.”  
“I’m here if you need me.”  
“Thank you. Let’s just get through the night” she says avoiding his eyes while forcing a smile to prevent the torrent of tears building up. “Bell, please can you-”  
“Don’t worry, Clarke. I’ve got you” he reassures his friend that his priority was her wellbeing.  
“Thanks.”

The evening draws on too slowly for the blonde who did not once dare to look on the groom’s side of the table or into the crowd to see Roan sitting at her mother’s table after her speech. She focused on O and Raven and doesn’t touch her dinner. Lexa, of course was doing what she does best, drinking and entertaining her people. Then the inevitable Bride and Groom dance which lead to a near panic attack for the blonde who was expected to dance with Lexa. Luckily, Bellamy had her back who gets to her before Lexa even gets out of her seat. She understood and was glad to concede. She ends up dancing with Raven instead leaving Nyko with Octavia’s actress friend who’d been eyeing the writer all night.

“How are you, mama?” Lexa asks her friend. “Looking hot in that dress by the way” she was due in a few weeks and her beautiful baby bump was in full display in her black dress that flowed to the ground with a long slit on the side.  
“My feet are killing me and I feel like a whale” she deadpans. “And to what do I owe this pleasant surprise” she asks already having an idea for she indeed does have eyes.  
“Do I need a reason to dance with my godchild and her beautiful mother?”  
“Uh huh, you’re off the hook for now.” She jokes as Lexa starts to lead with dashing ballroom steps that gets the crowds attention causing both to giggle through the entire dance. 

Clarke and Bellamy on the other hand took it easy and stayed as far away from Lexa as possible. Although, the blonde couldn’t help but take in the show she was putting on with her very pregnant friend as she hears them cackle over the music.  
“What’s going on with you, Clarke?”  
“I don’t know, Bell. I don’t know.” The music was drowned out by the DJ’s announcement of the next dance. Octavia and Bellamy took the floor with Lexa and Lincoln. Again, the artist had to find some sort of distraction, but inevitably had to witness the emotional scene that played out before her. It moved the crowd of acquaintances after hearing their speeches giving them a glimpse of how important the siblings’ bonds were. 

Once they were free to roam, Clarke makes her way to her mother’s table and finally greets her boyfriend with a chaste kiss and hug.  
“Hey, you look great” he says hugging her.  
“Thanks, you too. Are you ok? Is this too much?” she asks concerned for his wellbeing and also feeling guilty after what happened with Lexa.  
“I’m great! I’m meeting so many people from he industry” he says with enthusiasm. “I’m going to go catch up with Lexa, want to come?”  
“No, go ahead” she says disgusted with herself and behavior. “Roan” she calls after him but he doesn’t hear her. She chats with Cane, Gustus, Aurora and her mother for most of the evening, not having the energy or desire to meet the celebrities that attended the reception. She barely spent any time with Roan as he was networking all night long. 

Lexa had kept an eye on Clarke all night who refused to acknowledge her presence. She made nice with Anya’s and Lincoln’s clients and evaded advances of women who were well aware of the writer’s reputation. She finally breaks away and joins Abby’s table. After a brief chat, they all get up to dance leaving Clarke with the writer. 

“Clarke, can we talk.”  
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”  
“I did it too, Lex.” She’s clearly upset so the brunette looks around and doesn’t see Roan anywhere.  
“Let’s get some air” she says leading her friend outside. Bellamy sees them and follows.  
“Lex. I can’t be alone with you.”  
“Clarke, we’re friends, what happened was an accident ok, it won’t happen again” the blonde was annoyed to hear the brunette speak this way about their moment.  
“It wasn’t an accident. I wanted to kiss you. I’ve wanted to for a while.” Lexa was flabbergasted. She never dared assume that the blonde wanted her.  
“You have?”  
“Haven’t you?”  
“Well, of course, but we’re friends. And you’re with Roan, who’s kind of a friend” she explains still not sure if she heard her correctly.  
“I know and that’s why I can’t be around you. I don’t think that we can be friends.” Those were the exact words the writer hoped not to hear. She understood but didn’t like it one bit. This meant that she would lose her again.  
“But I don’t want to let you go.” Clarke starts to cry quietly trying to keep her composure.  
“I know, Lex, but I can’t do it” she sniffles and takes deep breaths. “Whatever this is, I can’t control it” she says gesturing to the space between them. It was like a whirlpool sucking the blonde in every time she was near.  
“Clarke, please, don’t do this.” She pleads her voice trembling.  
“I’m sorry” and with that she walks back into the reception hall leaving Lexa alone outside. 

Bellamy watched the whole thing transpire and actually feels for the writer. He considers offering his support but decides against it returning to find Echo amongst the crowds. The brunette lights a cigarette and contemplates what her next move should be. She would normally turn to alcohol but doesn’t because she needs to see the couple off safely. So, she endures the the evening of being given the cold shoulder by the one person she wants to be so close to. 

Clarke tries her best to turn a blind eye every time a girl approaches the writer to blatantly flirt. The writer appeared to be polite not really in the mood to play like she normally is. The artist couldn’t help the nauseating feeling that was evoked by thoughts of Lexa accepting any of their indecent proposals offered by these women, but she made her choice. She didn’t leave Roan’s side the rest of the night. 

 

***  
“Congratulations, Heda” John Murphy says as she approaches his desk.  
“Morning, John.”  
“The studio was happy with your work and we’ve been receiving calls from other networks.”  
“Swell” she says less than enthused. It’s been two weeks since the wedding and lots of changes were happening. She finished her gig at Roan’s studio, Raven is just about ready to pop, and she’s been cut out of Clarke’s life. “Can you bring some coffee into the office please, John” she asks not in the mood to chat.  
“Sure thing” he says picking up on her mood. She walks into Anya's office and makes herself comfortable on her couch as her agent finishes up a phone call. 

“Good work, Lex! I’m proud of you” she says in an encouraging tone. The writer actually stuck with a job for the entirety of the agreed timeline. This made her agent happy as calls poured in for more opportunities.  
“Thanks.”  
“So, one last thing. You have to go pick up your bonus from the producer.”  
“Why don’t they just mail it?”  
“She wants to give it to you personally.” The writer was annoyed by the power move but knew that Anya wouldn’t let her walk away from the money.  
“Fine. I’ll go tomorrow.”  
“You’ll go today.”  
“Anything else?”  
“The wife wants to have you over for dinner.”  
“Do I have a choice?”  
“She’s concerned for you” The writer has been pretty distant since the wedding and Raven had an idea why but hasn’t had a chance to talk to her about it.  
“Ok. I'll be there.” 

 

***  
“It’s been a pleasure. Thank you again. Adiós.” Lexa says backing away until had a handle on the door to the producer’s office. She finally slips out with the check in hand having managed the woman’s last attempt to seduce her. She scurries down the hall and slows down once she feels she’s far enough from the lion’s den. She’s alone in the studio as it’s now after hours and decides to see if the head writer was working late. It’s a good time to say goodbye to Roan who she’s grown to like over the past few months regardless of the complicated web of love triangles with his girlfriend and sister. 

She opens the door without knocking as she has so many times before only to find that she definitely needs to stop entering unannounced. She can’t believe what she sees and is completely put off by the display of raw, unadulterated lust that unfolded before her. She can’t erase the moans or the look on Roan’s face as he was pleasured orally by the star actress of the show. 

“Fuck” he says his expression changing from bliss to terror. He abruptly pushes the actress away from him. He stands to recover his pants.  
“Working late?” Lexa asks not at all amused. She was clearly upset but is not one to judge. Nevertheless, this involved Clarke and she has to work hard to control her anger towards him. She walks away before she says or does anything else she’ll regret.  
“Shit! Lexa, wait!” He runs after her and catches her begging her to stop. “Please let me explain.” The brunette steps back to keep a distance.  
“How long?”  
“I don’t know, maybe a month or two.” Lexa lifts her hand to strike him but reaches for her hair instead.  
“You fucking idiot! What the fuck were you thinking?” she cries out. She's livid and scorns the man struggling to catch his breath.  
“I don’t know! I just, got caught up in this world, I-” Lexa is pacing to control her anger.  
“How could you do this to her?”  
“Are you going to tell her?” he asks desperate and of course thinking only about himself.  
“No, _you _are.” He swallows hard realizing that there was no way he was getting out of this.__  
“Lexa, please I’ll end it and I-”  
“You have 24 hours to tell her. Do the right thing” she says looking directly into his dark beady eyes.  
“Why is it ok for you and not the rest of us mere mortals?” The writer sighs.  
“You’re supposed to be better than me. Come on man, she deserves better” she answers with earnest before walking away. That’s why she had a soft spot for the guy, she truly believed that he was a better man and was worthy of Clarke. Regardless of the recent developments between the two women, she had no intention of taking that away from her. Roan knew it and there was no excuse. He would have to come clean if he had any respect for the woman they both loved.

____

 

***  
“So, what do you think he’ll do?” Anya asks as the three lounged on her patio after dinner.  
“I don’t know. He’s not a bad guy. He just made a bad choice.” Lexa observes.  
“Yeah, well, once you break Clarke's trust, it’s hard to get back” Raven explains. The Sky Girl is highly independent, a free spirit and doesn’t take shit from anyone. The Latina knows that this is the end for them.  
“There’s something else” the writer says to her friends who have her full attention.  
“What is it?”  
“We kissed at the wedding” she says casually.  
“What?!” the agent gasps.  
“I knew something was up between you two” the Latina says taking pride in her intuition.  
“How did that come about?”  
“I don’t know, it took me by surprise, she kind of just kissed me.”  
“Holy shit! She kissed you?” Raven wanted clarification.  
“I guess? but I immediately kissed back.”  
“So how was it left?”  
“She told me that she can’t be friends with me” neither were expecting that reaction.  
“Oh my gods! She still cares about you!” Raven exclaims.  
“So, what are you going to do?”  
“Nothing. I’m respecting her wish. Your people have to take care of her” she directs to Raven.  
“Heda, one, we both know she can take care of herself and two, we’re all her people now.” As much as Lexa wanted to believe her, she didn’t feel like part of her life after being shunned once again by the Sky Girl.

 

***  
Lexa pulls up to her house, she looks up and takes in the night sky with a few stars visible. The moon was barely present, yet there it was, a glistening suggestion of the rock in the sky. She takes a deep breath to release the events of the day walks towards her door. She looks up and sees a figure on her front step, she’s beyond surprised once she makes it out. 

“Clarke?” she says nothing and walks straight into Lexa’s arms. The writer embraces her and holds on tight as the blonde buries her head into chest holding on for dear life. “It’s ok. I’m here.”  
“I had to see you” she gasps. Clarke could have gone anywhere, to her mother, to Bellamy or Raven, but she didn’t. All she wanted was Lexa, what she’s always wanted, to be in her arms to be held and loved by her. The gravitating force that she's never been able to explain has finally drawn her into the eye of the storm where she found peace. “Please, can I stay?” she says in between sobs with no intention of letting the brunette go.  
“Shh shh shhhh” she says rubbing her back to comfort her friend. “Of course. Whatever you need. I’m here.”


	13. Undefined

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with the story, guys! I really appreciate it.  
> Warning: This is not even half way done. It will most likely be part of a 2 or 3 part series.  
> I am determined to see this project through. :-)

6 weeks later 

There was nothing more satisfying to Lexa than waking up with Clarke in her arms. For the past weeks their naked bodies somehow remain intertwined after countless nights of mind blowing sex. They haven’t established anything, yet they seemed comfortable with that. Lexa was there for the artist, as she always would be and without condition or question. She would never ask Clarke for anything she wasn’t ready to give and so she waits for her, never hesitating to give her all she had. There was no doubt in the writer’s mind of how she felt for the Sky Girl and she was grateful for the opportunity to make up for lost time. 

“What time is it?” the artist asks as the writer reaches for her phone to turn off her alarm. She snuggles closer to Lexa knowing she would have to go soon.  
“Too early” she mumbles laying on her back holding the blonde close.  
“You have to go.”  
“Indra can wait.” The writer and the director have been making progress for the past month and Clarke has been adamant about keeping the writer on track. Clarke started a new job as the visiting artist at the University, so both were occupied with their work while spending most of their free time together or with their people. They’ve been playing house and while Clarke found her own place after moving out, she chose to spend most nights at Lexa’s. She felt comfortable there, it’s where she wanted to be. 

“Go shower. I’m right behind you” the blonde whispers in a convincing tone as she runs her hand up the writer’s thigh to her hip bone.  
“You make it near impossible to get out of bed woman.”  
“Go” she insists playfully not trying hard to escape the bronzed skinned woman’s hold, who rolls the blonde on her back and descends upon her to meet her lips. The artist turns her head avoiding her advance and grins. “I have morning breath” she says shaking her head.  
“You know I can kiss right through that” she says starting with slow and soft caresses to which the artist responds positively. “See?” she says eliciting a smile from the blonde who takes in more of Lexa’s lips, and tongue. Just as their bodies start to find their rhythm both forgetting the original plan, Clarke’s alarm blares the most obnoxious ringtone from the dresser where it was set. It was her back up plan, knowing that neither had the necessary willpower in the morning. The brunette cringes at the sound and sighs with resentment.  
“Time to go, stud” she says getting up to turn off her phone leaving the writer defeated as she begrudgingly rolls out of bed and heads for the shower. As promised, Clarke follows to join her. 

 

***  
“Well fuck me sideways, I think we did it.”  
“We sure did” Indra echoes as the two look at their creative wall covered with multiple overlapping storylines.  
“I’ll make the final edits to the script and should be finished by next week.”  
“We start casting next week, can you finish sooner?”  
“I can, I just-” Lexa hesitates, trying to see if she could change her plans.  
“What is it?”  
“I have my godchild tomorrow and the Night Bloods on Sunday but-” Indra wouldn’t allow her to finish. She knows how important they were to the writer who’s been doing so well lately.  
“No big deal, they have the synopsis and the part to read with Octavia. Besides, we don’t have the A list until later in the week.” They had a hand full of stars lined up for the Penelope role, while they had already cast Octavia for the role of O, Lexa’s character. The writer’s reputation preceded her and the actors would do whatever it took for the part.  
“I’ll finish by Wednesday at the latest.” 

Lexa calls the blonde on her way out to the parking lot. It was 8pm, the two had put in a good 12 hours of work to complete the finishing touches of the storyboard. 

“Hey, you” Clarke says with a smile as she answers her phone excited to see it was Lexa.  
“Hey, beautiful. I’m calling it a day. How are you?  
“Good. I’m going to clean up my mess and head out.”  
“My place or yours?”  
“Yours. I’ll pick up pizza if you call it in.”  
“Read my mind.”  
“Ok, I’ll see you soon.”  
“Bye, Clarke” Lexa says before hanging up. She has grown accustomed to their routine and the writer thrived with the balance of work, family, community and Clarke. There were no expectations, or labels, she was her best for the artist. Conversely, Clarke could freely explore the emotions she’d been trying to understand for months without guilt or pressure. They simply were, and it worked, they’ve always worked so easily and unbelievably well together. 

 

Clarke walks out to the parking lot of the Art building where she will be cooped up for the next nine months before her exhibit funded by the University. She’s met by an unexpected friend. 

“Clarke!” She looks up a bit startled at first.  
“Jesus!”  
“Nope, just me.”  
“Wells, hi. What are you doing here?” She asks confused but glad to see her friend. She gives him a hug.  
“Sorry I scared you” He says as they part and walk towards her car.  
“No worries. It’s good to see you.”  
“Yeah, I sent you a text, but you didn’t respond so I thought I’d come check on you.”  
“Oh” she looks at her phone and sees a text from a few hours ago and another more recent one. She had a tendency to ignore her phone while she worked, and he must have sent the second when she was talking to Lexa. “Shit, sorry about that.”  
“It’s ok. I thought maybe you’d want to get some food after a long day” he says casually.  
“Oh, that’s sweet, Wells, but I already have plans” she says feeling bad that he walked across campus to get in touch with her and after she had to cancel their plans a few times this week due to being in the zone and once when Lexa surprised her with lunch. Wells was disappointed but doesn’t show it, his smile never diminishing same as his positive tone of voice.  
“It’s ok, Clarke. Don’t worry” he pauses then chooses to subtly dig for information. “Do you have a hot date or something?” Clarke smirks recognizing his tactic. Hot date hmmm… she wonders.  
“Something like that, I guess…” she fumbles, not really sure how to categorize what she’s been doing for the past month and a half with Lexa.  
“Cool, well, I guess I’ll see you next week. Have a great night, Clarke” he responds not all that concerned with the new information.  
“Thanks, Wells. You two. We’ll definitely get lunch one day next week” She promises.  
“I look forward to it” he says as he sees her to her car and closes the door. She smiles and waves before driving off. 

 

Clarke walks into the writer’s home sets the pizza and her canvas bag down to find Lexa in her black boy shorts and tank top typing away on her laptop at the kitchen table with a glass of whiskey and the Looking Glass playing in the background. 

“If it isn’t my life, my lover, my lady” the brunette says sitting back as the artist leans down with a smile to kiss her.  
“Bringin’ gifts from far away.”  
“This is all I need right here” Lexa assures as she pulls the blonde onto her lap cradling her in her long arms.  
“Pizza’s getting cold” Clarke says giggling as Lexa buries her head in her chest. “And I haven’t eaten all day.”  
“Ok, ok, warm pizza it is.” Clarke stands up she notices pictures on her computer of beautiful women. 

“So, when do you and Indra decide on your Penelope?”  
“Auditions are next week with O.” Clarke brings Lexa’s plate to her with a glass of water and gets a glance of a few familiar actresses on her screen before she closes it down.  
“Those are pretty impressive prospects.”  
“Yeah, Anya wants us to cast one of these big names, but I’d rather go with an unknown.”  
“Might be nice to see a new face on screen.”  
“Yeah, but we’ll see. First they have to have the thing, but it will ultimately come down to their chemistry with O.” The writer’s phone rings as the blonde sits down with her plate and glass of wine. “Sorry, it’s Rae” she says before answering. 

Clarke couldn’t quite understand why she was feeling a bit threatened by the idea of Lexa working long hours with a beautiful woman acting as her. This is how movies work, but still there was an uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. Maybe it was the fact that they weren’t official and that they were technically free to do as they like, even if they respected each other enough to talk about any desire to be with other people. Nevertheless, this shouldn’t be an issue, she knows how the brunette felt about her and how understanding she’s been about letting the artist slowly figure out what it was that she wanted. The writer’s the one who was completely vulnerable and has completely conceded to Clarke. Why was she so easily overtaken by the green-eyed monster when it came to Lexa? She’s not a jealous person, always valuing freedom and independence in her past relationships, maybe even to a fault, but when it came to the brunette, she had to constantly fight off her possessive nature that lurked deep in her core. 

“How is she?”  
“She’s pumping away. She can’t wait for their weekend getaway.”  
“Good for them, it’s nice that they can do that.”  
“Good for me too, I get Tris time”  
“I’m having dinner with my Mom tomorrow, but I’ll be over after.”  
“Great, and you’re sure you can watch her Sunday?”  
“Positive. You don’t have to miss your game.”

The brunette was absolutely enamored with her god child and valued her time with the baby. Clarke found their bond to be so endearing and went weak in the knees for maternal Lexa. 

 

***  
Three weeks earlier

“Honey are you sure you don’t need Marcus to help you with the move?”  
“I’m good, mom. Lexa and her team have it under control.”  
“And how’s work? Are they treating you well?”  
“My first week was fine, everyone is super supportive and excited to have me.”  
“As they should be” the Latina says, they’re the lucky ones.  
“Yeah, everyone’s been great.”  
“Oh, I meant to tell you that I ran into Wells and his father” Abby shares.  
“Wells! God, I haven’t seen him since college.”  
“You really should get on Facebook” the Latina suggests. “You could be reconnecting with all of the delinquents.” When Clarke moved to New York after college, she lost touch with their group of friends ‘the delinquents’ except for her family: the Blakes and Raven.

“They’ll have to find me the old-fashioned way.”  
“Through your mother?”  
“Exactly. How’s he doing?”  
“Great! he’s an English professor and works on the same campus as you.”  
“Well shit, this world just keeps getting smaller.”  
“Anyway, I gave him your number. It might be nice for you to know someone.”  
“It’ll be good to see him. Professor Jaha.”  
“I do believe he’s single” The doctor adds.  
“I’m pretty sure he’s gay, Mom.”  
“Negative” Raven corrects. “He’s had an array of gorgeous girlfriends.”  
“How would you know? Oh wait, I forgot I’m talking to hacker queen.”  
“You don’t need to be a hacker to stalk people, just social media. I know what most of the delinquents are up to these days.”  
“Riiiight. Anyway, it hasn’t even been a month since my break up and my mother is already setting me up? Really?”  
“It’s not a setup, it would be good for you to have friends.”  
“She’s got us and Lexa” her friend defends. Clarke glares at the Latina not wanting to involve her mother in her private life.

“What? Did I miss something?” Abby was not happy to hear it. Raven shrugs apologetically to her friend.  
“Nothing, mom. She’s been helping me with the move. That’s all” her mother was not convinced and was very concerned. Clarke knows she means well but she didn’t want to have to explain herself, not yet anyway.  
“I know she’s a good friend Clarke, but be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”  
“Jesus, again, just broke up with my boyfriend of 2 years can we not think about me being with other people?”  
“You’re right. Sorry, honey. How are you dealing with the break up?”  
“Better than Roan” Raven says quietly with another look from Clarke. “What? He was a wreck when you broke it off.”  
“Is he not the one who was cheating?” Abby asks.  
“Yes, and that’s the one thing I can’t tolerate but there was always something off with us. Maybe the move was too much.” She knows she wasn’t innocent in all this, what with her doubts and then her unfinished business with Lexa. “Our lives are going in different directions. He’ll realize it’s for the best.”  
“Well, it does sound like you’re dealing pretty well.”  
“I’ve got my people and work to keep me busy” _and Lexa _Raven thinks.__

____

Abby leaves but Clarke stays with Raven as Anya is out of town for the weekend.

“So, why don’t you just tell your mom that you guys are together?  
“Because we’re not, we're involved” she corrects.  
“Have you or have you not been sleeping with her and living with her for the past three weeks?”  
“Yes, but now I have my own place, my own car, work and-”  
“So, what? She’s like your rebound?” As much as she loved her friend, she also cared about the writer and wasn’t down with Clarke taking advantage of her.  
“No.”  
“You know how she feels about you. You think it’s a good idea to be messing around when you have no clue what you’re doing?”  
“I know, Rae. Trust me we are both well aware of the situation. There’s no bad intentions, we both understand what this is and yes, she’s going along with it.”  
“Ok, Clarke. I trust you both to make mature decisions that won’t harm the alliance.”  
“Alliance? What is this The 100?” Raven wasn’t amused.  
“You know what I mean?”  
“Don’t worry, Rae, it’s all good” the blonde assures. 

She loves Lexa, she always has, even after all that’s happened, she can’t help how she feels about the writer. The timing and the circumstance was off and she had a lot to figure out. She’s still not fully healed from what Lexa did to her, she still getting over the break up with Roan, it was a lot for the Sky Girl. Lexa knows this, and she knows Clarke. She has made the decision to do whatever it takes to keep the artist in her life and to make her happy in whatever way she can. It’s the bravest thing she’s ever done to be so vulnerable and to give herself fully to another, something she’s only ever done with one person. She’ll wait a lifetime if she has to even if it remains undefined. 


	14. Gemini

Sunday

Clarke was driving to meet Raven for a yoga class when her phone rings. It was Lexa. She hesitates and considers ignoring it but doesn’t. It wouldn’t be fair as Lexa was completely in the dark about the artists’ doubts. 

“Hello”  
“Good morning, beautiful.”  
“More like afternoon” she responds coldly.  
“Um, yeah, you’re right. What are you doing this fine afternoon?” She asks redirecting her attention to Clarke rather than the artist’s suspicions.  
“I can’t really talk. I’m on my way to yoga.”  
“Oh, ok. Well do you want to have dinner tonight? You can tell me all about your evening.” Clarke rolls her eyes.  
“Ummm, not tonight. I’ve got some things I want to do around the house.” Lexa got a bad feeling in her stomach.  
“Right, of course…” she pauses thinking before speaking for once. “Is everything ok?”  
“Yeah, all good. I just want some time alone to unwind from the weekend.” Lexa wasn’t buying it.  
“Ok, Clarke. Let me know if you need anything.”  
“Ok. I’ll call you.” She didn’t want to give her a time line and the writer knew that meant that she wanted to be left alone. “Bye.”  
“Bye, Clarke” Lexa hangs up after the blonde completely confused. Whatever this was about, she knew her well enough to give her space. She’ll just have to wait, at this point what did it matter. 

 

***  
Thursday 3 days earlier

“We’re early”  
“This way we can scope out the ones waiting.” The Latina assures. She and the blonde had been discussing her insecurities regarding the Penelope auditions. Raven suggested they stop by the office and surprise them for lunch. 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”  
“Relax, I’m curious too.”  
“Why am I being so weird about this?”  
“This is out of character for you.”  
“I don’t understand it. I know how she feels about me”  
“Do you know how you feel about her?”  
“Problem is I feel too much all at once.” 

The two women walk into the office greeted by one of Raven’s favorite people, John Murphy who adores Tris and her moms. His face lights up to see his boss’s better half walk in with her baby sleeping in her carrier. 

“This day just keeps getting better and better. Hello, sweet baby, how I’ve missed you” he says immediately fawning over Tris.  
“Missed you too, Murph” Raven says demanding his attention.  
“That goes without saying” he gives her peck on the lips. “I don’t believe she’s expecting you for lunch today.”  
“No, we wanted to surprise them.”  
“Them?” he looks to Clarke and at the two women sitting in the waiting room with the glass walls who resembled the blonde.  
“Sorry, this is Clarke.”  
“Hi, Murphy. Nice to meet you.”  
“A pleasure to meet Heda’s muse” he says shaking her hand.  
“I prefer Clarke” she quips.  
“Of course, I didn’t mean-”  
“It’s ok. Um where are the restrooms?” she asks. He points her in the right direction and on her way she sees the actresses waiting. It was a bit surreal to see a group of blue eyed blonde beauties and she felt so ashamed for spying on Lexa. She had no right, what was she thinking?

She splashes water on her face to calm and collect herself and just as she’s convinced herself to leave she hears two women in the stall talking. 

“I would do anything for this part!”  
“I wouldn’t mind doing Lexa Woods.”  
“I’d do her for the part.”  
“I’d do her for fun.”

Clarke walks out with the same insecurity she’s had for the past week and makes her way back to Raven who was joined by Anya now carrying Tris. 

“John, call in lunch from that vegan place. Casting will take over in the afternoon” This meant that they had found Penelope and that the rest would be auditioning for other parts.  
“Woah, really?”  
“Really, she’s perfect.”  
“Who’s perfect?” Clarke asks.  
“Clarke, what are you doing here?” Anya asks surprised.  
“We’re surprising you and Heda for lunch, babe” her wife reminds her.  
“Come and join the party” she says indicating them to walk ahead of her. Raven opens the door and they see Indra explaining things to O and Lexa with the actress on the other side of the room. O was surprised yet delighted to see her friends and the baby who even brought a smile to Indra’s normally austere façade. Hugs were exchanged as Clarke waits for Lexa to notice their presence. The writer doesn’t immediately realize who it is as she seemed to be in a deep conversation with the beautiful, tall natural beauty that stood before her. Clarke was in awe of the woman she’s seen in movies.

“Isn’t she amazing?” Indra asks noticing the women staring.  
“I am so gay for her” Octavia admits.  
“We all are” Raven agrees.  
“She’s perfect” Anya reiterates as Clarke remains speechless seeing the actress that would be spending more time with Lexa than her for the next several months. Finally, Lexa turns and sees Clarke who never fails to give her goosebumps and cause her to lose track of her thoughts and current conversation. She smiles at the blonde and makes her way over with the actress. She walks directly to Clarke and kisses her chastely on the lips.  
“Hey, beautiful.  
“Hi” Clarke responds feeling more at ease with her attention which was then directed towards her Godchild.  
“Hello, sunshine” she says gawking at Tris who smiles and makes adorable laughing noises in response. Clarke loved seeing Lexa with the baby, apparently so did the actress who felt comfortable enough to approach them.

“She’s adorable” the taller woman says in her low-pitched voice which helped earn her the part.  
“Say hi to Costia” the writer chants to her Godchild eliciting a smile and a pseudo-waving of the hand. The room was immediately filled with awwwes that just irked Clarke in the worst way. It was all too uncanny, a what seemed to be enhanced version of her would be playing the role of the artist and working very closely with Lexa. Clarke needed an exit, so she gave Raven the look and hoped she would pick it up. 

“So, congratulations on getting the part” the Latina interrupts.  
“Thank you, I’m so honored, I still can’t believe it” she says looking to Lexa.  
“Are you kidding me?” Anya says in agent mode “Costia, this means so much to the project. You’re perfect for the part!” Clarke was going to lose it if she heard Anya say ‘perfect’ one more time. Raven noticed and continued to make her exit seem natural.  
“Great! Well, we didn’t know you’d be doing a work lunch so, we’ll get going.”  
“Are you sure?” Anya asked worried she did something wrong.  
“Yeah, babe, really, she needs to go down for her nap anyway” her wife wasn’t fully convinced and continued to read in between the lines.  
“Ok” the agent says giving her a quick kiss. “Everything ok?” she whispers.  
“I promise you’re not in trouble” she says kissing her back for reassurance.  
“Ok, I’ll be home late. We’re celebrating tonight. Call if you need anything.”  
“I will, baby.”  
“I’ll walk you out” Lexa says wanting more time with Tris and Clarke. “I need some fresh air.”  
Clarke apologizes for crashing and congratulates the women then turns to Costia. “It was nice to meet you.”  
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”  
“Clarke” she says shaking her hand. She was confused that the actress didn’t make the connection but also relieved. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with any of it.  
“Costia. Nice to meet you too.” She watches the two women walk out, she knew exactly who she was to Lexa.

Lexa and Clarke wait with the baby while Raven gets the car. The writer seemed unaware of Clarke’s insecurities and it made the artist feel ridiculous. Lexa was completely crazy about the artist who had nothing to worry about. Maybe it was the fresh wound left by Roan or the realization that she’s been denying for months and was becoming more difficult to avoid.

“You should surprise me more often, beautiful.”  
“It doesn’t bother you that we interrupted your work?”  
“Are you kidding? I’ll take you and this little bundle of joy any chance I get” she says kissing the blonde’s hand and pulling her close with the baby harness in between them. “Will I see you tonight?”  
“If you want. You’re not going to celebrate with the Indra and your leading ladies?”  
“Oh shit. Is that happening tonight?”  
“You’re the boss, you should know.”  
“Hmm. I’ll have to get back to you on that.”  
“It’s ok, Lex. I’ve got some work to do anyways” that was a lie, she would most likely spend the evening gossiping with Raven.  
“Ok, but we’re still on for the concert with Echo and Bellamy this weekend right?”  
“Absolutely” she says as Raven pulls up. Lexa gets the baby settled in the back seat talking to her god child the whole time.  
“Alrighty, mama you’re all set.”  
“Thanks, Heda.”  
“Always a pleasure.” She shuts the door and turns to Clarke. “Call me if you want me to come by tonight” she says interlacing her fingers with the blonde’s while subtly pulling her close.  
“It’s ok. Enjoy your evening, you deserve it. She’s… perfect.” Clarke had no other words to explain the double they had found to play her.  
“You’re perfect” Lexa says kissing her sweetly at first, but then before Clarke could break she pulls her into an even deeper kiss leaving the blonde completely helpless. Damn, she loved kissing those pouty lips, and for all the awkwardness she faced on the brief visit, this definitely made it worthwhile.  
“Let’s go love birds! I’ve got a leakage issue here” she says noticing her breast becoming more tender.  
“You heard the lady” Clarke says smiling into her mouth before parting and making her way to the car. “I’ll talk to you later.”  
“Bye, beautiful” she says as the blonde shuts the door. 

 

***  
Saturday 

“God, I’m so sorry, you guys.”  
“Relax, Clarke. It’s not a big deal. We can drive you home.”  
“I’m totally a third wheel” she complains. She was more upset about it than her friends.  
“Not at all” Echo assures.  
“You sort of are” Bellamy says partially serious but most teasing his friend. “Ouch!” he cries as his girlfriend elbows him.  
“He’s right, this isn’t exactly an event for singles” she says looking around at all the couples at the tables set up for an intimate evening of jazz music.  
“Sure it is. Lots of people here are with friends. Don’t even think about it. Just enjoy the music.”  
“You’re right. I’m here for the music” she reminds herself, _and not for a romantic prelude to an evening of passionate mind-blowing sex with Lexa. No, not at all. ___  
“It is kind of shitty that she bailed on you” Bellamy says to justify Clarke’s disappointment.  
“It sucks, but you know she wouldn’t miss this unless it was urgent” Echo defends.  
“Yeah, I know” that’s what bothered the artist the most, she felt slighted by being second to Costia, even though it wasn’t directly because of the actress, that’s how the artist felt at that moment.  
“What was so important that she missed this? It was her idea.” It was true. She had pulled some strings and got hooked. She set up the whole evening originally just for her and Clarke but then Echo begged her for tickets when she found out.  
“Anya set up a last-minute meeting with a possible investor who insisted that Lexa go.”  
“Why couldn’t Indra go?”  
“Indra and O are doing interviews all weekend. So, Costia is going with her.”  
“Oh” Bellamy says realizing what this was really about. “Anya’s going too right?”  
“Who knows” she wasn’t discrete about her frustration. All she could think about was Lexa with the superstar who has heart eyes for her spending the evening in some fancy Mansion on the coast.  
“Of course she is, it’s business. There’s nothing to worry about” Echos says glaring at her boyfriend. “Clarke, she’s crazy about you. You know that, right?” She knows, even if they’re not official, and could technically do whatever they wanted, she knew deep down that Lexa wouldn’t do anything behind her back.  
“Yeah, I do.”  
“Good, so let’s enjoy the evening for her.”  
“You’re right.”

____

The rest of the night she looked on as couples did sweet couple things and couldn’t help but feel a tenderness that turned to a melancholy. The music took her back to some of the best moments she shared with the writer when they lived in New York. These past months have been good, she’s been happy with Lexa. Nevertheless, there is still a part of her that doesn’t trust the writer, more importantly herself. Costia may have provoked this inquietude but, really it’s been there the entire time. She needed time to alone to think. 

 

***  
Sunday 

“Clarke?” Lexa was surprised to see her at her door after their last phone conversation a week ago.  
“Hey, can I come in?” her voice and eyes apologetic.  
“Of course” she says stepping aside. “Is everything ok?”  
“Yeah… no.”  
“Can I get you something drink?”  
“Yes please” the blonde doesn’t hesitate. She needs to calm her nerves. They stand in the kitchen as Lexa hands her a glass of wine that she downs immediately. The writer was taken aback now leaning against the counter.  
“Whoa, take it easy” Clarke ignores her downing the last drop and handing her the empty glass.  
“Lexa, I’ve been cold, distant and passive aggressive.” Lexa doesn’t argue, giving her the floor to lay it all out. “There’s been a lot of changes in my life and I’ve been trying to understand what I’ve been doing with you and-“  
“What we’ve been doing. We’re doing this together” the writer corrects.  
“Right, I mean, I’ve been very confused.”  
“It’s ok, you don’t have to have it all figured out right now. I told you, I’m not going anywhere.”  
“That’s just it, Lex. I don’t know if I’ll ever figure it out. You broke my heart. I mourned you, then you came back and I finally thought I had moved on.” Lexa doesn’t interrupt. “Lex, I’m scared. I’m in love with you and it terrifies me.” 

Lexa’s heart tightens to hear her say it and to see her overwhelmed with a torrent of emotions. She takes her in her arms to share the burden to show her there was nothing to fear, but the truth was, she was just as terrified. The first time around, she didn’t trust herself with this kind of love and the second time around, well here she was waiting for a verdict. Putting it all on the line for the one, who could break her heart at any moment.  
“I know” was all she could muster up. “Me too.”

“I can’t deny how I feel about you. Regardless of our past, I know that there’s never a guarantee” the artist says pulling back. “Seeing the way Costia looks at you and hearing other women talk about you makes me crazy.” the brunette was slightly confused “I don’t understand it.”  
“Clarke?”  
“This has always been the issue with you. My mind says ‘No!’ like, ‘you’ve got to be crazy to even think about it.’”  
“Ouch, that bad huh?” Lexa asks, with the words stinging more than she expected.  
“Turns out, I am crazy. Here I am again, with my heart that has always said ‘Yes,’ no questions and no doubts.” This eases the blow for Lexa who waits patiently for the artist to unpack all of her contradictory thoughts and emotions. “I can’t reconcile the two sides of me…” she pauses, and Lexa looks down as she prepares for the rejection. “…but I want to try.” She couldn’t believe her ears.  
“You want to be with me?” the writer finally manages.  
“I don’t know if my mind will ever change its tune, but I know that I want to try.” she responds, relieved to finally verbalize it.  
“Like, you want to be my girlfriend?” she says with a mischievous smile to ease the tension as Clarke shakes her head with eyes like glass and a smirk on her face. Lexa puts her arms around her hips and pulls her close as the blonde swings her arms around her neck. “Clarke, I love you.”  
“I know, I’ve never questioned that.”  
“Maybe this time, it’ll be enough” and before anything else could be said the writer presses her lips onto Clarke’s. Their bodies and mouths merged, closing the gap left by undefined silence and a painful history. There was only that moment in the present where past and future intersect, the one thing they knew for sure. The rest remains to be told as reality unfolds before them. 

“You’re not really jealous of Costia are you?” the brunette asks as they part.  
“I’m not proud of it.”  
“I have absolutely no interest.”  
“Oh, come on, she’s gorgeous and talented. She’s so your type.”  
“You’re my type.”  
“It’s ok that it’s crossed your mind, you’re human.”  
“Nope, not even once” the writer didn’t falter in response.  
“Good, because you’re now officially mine.”  
“I like the sound of that” Lexa says continuing to kiss her and lifting the blonde by her thighs as her legs wrapped around the writer’s waist.


	15. Official

“Hey, Anya, how about boxing out.”  
“Hey, Lex, how about switching on picks.” Lexa rolls her eyes, it was Anya’s first time back since the birth of Tris and she was obviously out of shape and underperforming.  
“Fine” she concedes. “Let’s finish this, I’m ready for a beer. Execute on 3! 1, 2, 3”  
“Execute!” they howl in unison.

It was the semifinals of the inaugural pick up autumn tournament that Lexa decided to hold for the 30 and over group of mostly men. These guys have given her a lift for the past few years while she was at an all time low. If she wasn’t drinking or fucking, she was balling at the courts, often hungover. She’s gotten to know a lot of the regulars and made a reputation for herself as feisty street baller and trash talker. There was an unspoken respect for her that translated to participation in her semi-official event of a 4 v 4, three round tournament. Lincoln would hook the winners up with Lakers tickets while Lexa paid for the refs, giving a bit of structure to the pick-up game style tourney. She would then treat the participants to a round at her hole in the wall next to Gustus’s studio. 

This is how it’s always been for the writer the three constants in her life: Books, Boos and Bastketball. (Addiction is in her DNA. If one failed her she turned to the other. Now, she has Clarke and she can’t remember ever being happier. She balanced the writer, she ignited Lexa’s potential buried deep inside and with the artist she had it all. Clarke was her muse, not for her writing but for every human’s master work, life. 

“Let’s go, Heda!” Andre and his teammates yell. “I can’t wait for them to beat the Azgedan deuce bags.”  
“Language, Andre” Clarke reminds him.  
“That’s what Heda calls them” he defends. Echo laughs as Clarke rolls her eyes.  
“Of course she does” she says not at all surprised.  
“They’re soooo thirsty!” Jordan adds. “They haven’t played since the incident.”  
“What incident?” Echo asks.  
“Bloody Sunday.” This was news to both women. Clarke remembers the image of Lexa’s swollen lip, bloody nose and bruised cheek. “When Heda got in a fight with that asshole” he points across to the other courts where they were warming up.  
“Andre, really, try harder with the language, please” Clarke implores as she observes the enormous man with tattoos covering his arms and a shaved head. He did seem like a deuce bag who clearly had something to prove. It didn’t surprise her as the writer has no filter, a horrible temper and absolutely no fear. Clarke is convinced that her frontal lobe never developed. 

As the blonde’s eyes wander, she notices a very familiar ponytail bouncing around with the Azgedan team. _Shit, please don’t be him and if it is, please don’t let him see me, _she prays to the gods. Suddenly, the Nightbloods erupt and jump to their feet. Apparently, Lexa just hit the winning shot and they went crazy.__

____

“What’s wrong Clarke?” Echo asks.  
“I think, Roan is one of the Azgedan deuce bags.”  
“Shit, what do you want to do?”  
“Ignore him at all cost.”  
“He’ll see Heda.”  
“Yeah but he doesn’t need to see me. Cover me” she says as she hides behind her friend and the high school boys surrounding her. The Nightbloods head over to Lexa and her crew. “Hey, where are you guys going?”  
“To see Heda. Come with us.” _Shit. _She was now more visible without them.__

____

“Clarke?” The gods must not work on Sundays. She pretends to be talking to Echo about something hilarious. Her friend plays along. “Clarke Griffin?” Shit. She looks up feigning surprise.  
“Roan? What are you doing here?”  
“Playing basketball. What are you doing here?”  
“Watching basketball.” He eyes Echo suspiciously.  
“How are you?”  
“I’m good-”  
“She’s great!” Echo interrupts. Clarke appreciates her support but sees that Roan was not doing so well. She puts her hand on her lap to call her off and walks to meet him.  
“How are you, Roan?”  
“Um, ok, I guess. Please tell me that’s not your girlfriend” he says staring Echo down. “I’m just not ready for that.”  
_Yeah, kind of like I wasn’t ready for you to have your dick in some chick’s mouth _she thinks as she follows his gaze to Echo. “God, no. She’s my friend. We’re here to watch Lexa.”__  
“Oh, Lexa’s here?” He had no idea.  
“Yeah, she set this event up. You’re playing her.”  
“No shit, small world.” There’s an awkward pause and Clarke wasn’t sure if he was having a moment of missing his friend or of suspicion. Clarke decided to just come clean rather than have him find out another way which would be humiliating, exactly how she felt when he told her that he’d been fooling around for weeks.  
“Roan, you should know that-” she’s interrupted by his teammates calling him over to warm up.  
“Sorry, the guys are really serious about this game. Something about unfinished business.” Clarke is concerned knowing exactly what he was talking about. “Maybe we can talk after.”  
“I’d rather just-” the Azgedan assholes really had a way with cutting her off.  
“Sorry, Clarke. I gotta go. Let’s talk after” he says jogging away. 

____

She walks towards Lexa who waves at her bringing a smile to Clarke’s face. She decides to warn her girlfriend who makes her way over after hand shaking with the Nightbloods. The artist couldn’t help but lick her lips seeing her woman all sweaty with her long lean muscles glistening in the sun.

“Damn, you’re sexy” the blonde confesses.  
“I didn’t think you were into the jock look.”  
“I’m not. I’m into you.” Lexa leans in to kiss her girlfriend who pushes her away making her needier. “Lex, as much as I want to jump your bones right now, I have to tell you something.”  
“What’s up?”  
“Roan is playing with the Azgedans.”  
“Shit, are you sure?”  
“Yeah, I just talked to him.”  
“Are you ok?”  
“I’m fine. I tried to tell him about us, but he didn’t have time.”  
“You sure you want him to know?”  
“It’s none of his business, but I also don’t want to have to hide this from anyone” she says pulling at her shirt. Clarke was happy and free and didn’t want any drama now that they were official.  
“I agree, it’s the right thing to do. He’s a good guy” Clarke appreciated Lexa’s objectivity regarding her ex as she would always remind everyone that he was a good guy that made a bad choice. It took everything to keep her from kissing Lexa and groping her tight abs right then and there.  
“Oh, and be careful” her tone was serious. “It sounds like they’re out for blood.”  
“Clarke, it’s just basketball” she reassures her.  
“Not to them. Roan said they have unfinished business with you.” Lexa looks towards the guy that headbutted her.  
“We have refs working it’s an official game” this put Clarke at ease.  
“Ok, then I guess, good luck” she says tugging at her shirt.  
“Thanks, beautiful” she says as their eyes do the rest of the talking before Lexa walks off. As discrete as they tried to be, Roan could read between the lines and he was hurt. He felt betrayed even though fucked up with Clarke, Lexa totally fucked up what he considered a friendship between them. He was pissed.

“Don’t slide up for the screen Linc, I can’t get around it.” He nods at his sister, the commander on the court who’s been taking a beating. She’s easily getting around Roan to the basket but then getting hacked at the rim. She has the swollen beginnings of a black eye from a swinging elbow keeping her from a lay-up. They are clearly provoking her, but the kru is keeping her calm. She’s been feeding her teammates to avoid further altercations.  
“Anya, you’re overplaying your guy, he’s gone back door a few times and we’re not rotating fast enough.” She puts her thumbs up as she drinks her water.  
“These assholes are being ridiculous, and it’s getting old.” Gustus says in all seriousness. “If any of you get injured, bones will break” They didn’t see this side of Gustus often, but when it came to his kids’ well-being, his protectiveness comes out.  
“Ok, then we run Raven” the commander explains the play that was named after their friend for the simple fact that it was brilliant.  
They take the court, down 2 with the final possession. They need a three or an and 1. 

“What are you gonna do, Lex? Drive? My friends are waiting for you” Roan says as he guards her close. She could easily make space for a shot with an ankle breaker and step-back, but she wants to spare him the humiliation and runs Raven.  
“Roan, this is a game of intellect and your friends, well… they’re all muscle.”  
“My friends understand loyalty, something you know nothing about.” His tone was deliberate and went beyond the playful trash talk. That’s when Lexa realized that he knew. She backs him down and waits for Anya to get free from Lincoln’s screen to the top of the key and passes. She then cuts to the low block and runs along the baseline tightly grazing Gus’s shoulders as Roan collides with the Giant. She continues to the opposite corner where Lincoln has set a screen on his defender leaving Lexa open for a catch and shoot, which she hits to win the game. 

The team goes nuts and they all embrace the commander. The Azgedan’s sulked and were reluctant to congratulate the winners. Lexa shakes Roan’s hand who wanted to get out of there ASAP but she holds on to his hand. 

“Will you come by the bar for a drink?”  
“What do you think?” he asks with disdain releasing her hold on him.  
“Roan, Clarke was trying to tell you before the game” she defends.  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He was hurt and disappointed and Lexa felt horrible. “I thought we were friends.”  
“I didn’t know how to tell you.” He rolls his eyes. The whole time she was consoling him during the move she didn’t have the heart to tell him. She didn’t feel obligated and they weren’t official at that time. Also, she’s never felt as close to Roan as he did to her. Yet, there she was once again as the asshole of the situation.  
“Forget it. Funny, I thought you wanted something better for her” he says walking away. She didn’t respond, still processing his words. 

 

***  
“What do you think?”  
“Hmmm? What?” the writer asks rummaging through the freezer for packs of peas to put on her eye. After the afternoon at the bar and a day in the sun she was exhausted and was lost in her thoughts. She couldn’t shake Roan’s final words. She could barely make out what Clarke was saying as she walked into the kitchen from her bedroom.  
“I said, we should…” she’s distracted by Lexa’s tight booty and long leg muscles in her black boy shorts as she continued her desperate search for frozen vegetables.  
“We should what?” she asks turning around.  
“Jesus, that swelled up” the blonde says snapping out of her trance as she walks to her girlfriend a bit concerned. “Does it hurt?” she gently grazes her eye.  
“Looks worse than it feels. Remind me to buy more peas.”  
“Go sit down, I’ll take care of it.” The blonde quickly puts together some DIY ice packs and makes her way to the couch. 

“What are those for?” the artist lifts her knees and puts a cushion under and the ice packs on top of them. “Oh, I see.” Clarke had noticed her grimace every time she had to bend her knees when they got home. She then sits next to her to apply some coconut oil on her eye. “You don’t have to-”  
“Lex, I know I don’t. I want to.”  
“Thank you.” Clarke sensed something off with her usually playful and overly affectionate girlfriend who hasn’t even tried to touch her since the game. She was distracted while they were having fun with their friends at the bar.  
“What’s going on?”  
“Huh? What do you mean?”  
“You’ve been distant all afternoon.”  
“Really?”  
“Yeah, really. I’ve been eye fucking you all day and you barely looked at me, let alone touched me at the bar” she doesn’t beat around the bush and Lexa can’t deny it.  
“You’re right, I’m sorry, beautiful” Lexa gently slides her hair behind her ear before kissing her. “Thank you for coming today. It meant a lot to me” she kisses her again Clarke accepts her apology and sucks on her lower lip. 

“That’s better.” What’s going on in that mind of yours?” she asks concerned.  
“Nothing, I just-”  
“Do you feel bad about Roan?”  
“No, I’m not going to apologize for being with you.”  
“Good, me either. Whatever Roan said is clearly bothering you” The writer looks away having been found out. “Lex, look at me” she tilts her chin to meet her eyes. “Whatever he said is irrelevant. He doesn’t know us. What we have is between us, no one else can understand it. Shit, sometimes I don’t understand it” she gets a smirk from the brunette agreeing with her words.  
“I don’t know, I just want the best for you. You’re everything to me, Clarke” her voice cracks a bit and she swallows her emotions.  
“I’m not everything. If I was everything, then I would be nothing as well” the writer was deep in thought as she considered her words. “Lexa, I decide what’s best for me.” The writer knew this, and it was the lesson she learned the hard way the first time around with Clarke.  
“I want to be better for you is all.” The artist’s heart melts and she smiles with a tenderness that only the writer could evoke from her. 

“Lexa, I just want you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted” The writer has never felt more alive. She kisses the blonde before she could say anything else. All her doubts disappeared, she finally found the shore after years of free-floating at sea. “Feel better?” the artist breathes in her mouth.  
“Uh huh” she moans. “If it wasn’t for my knees, I’d already have you naked on your back,” Clarke’s eyes widen at the thought and smiles mischievously, happy to have her girlfriend back.  
“In that case, let me help you” she stands up and removes her night gown. The blonde looked at her provocatively biting her lower lip before turning around and slowly walking to their bedroom. Lexa is in awe, she was truly blessed by the Gods. Her mind wastes no time, but her knees couldn’t keep up.  
“Damn it!” she says under her breath but loud enough to elicit a grin from her girlfriend.  
“You ok, stud?”  
“Never better” her face contorts with pain as she hobbles towards the bedroom. She was officially weak in the knees for Clarke fucking Griffin.


	16. Carnival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, all! I promise a Clexa happy ending, but our leading ladies have a long way to go. So, this is a warning for more drama and heartache.  
> Thank you all for staying with me! :-)

“Thank you so much for meeting with me, Clarke.”  
“I’m glad to help.”  
“I really love Lexa-” Clarke pauses as she finishes washing her hands of the paint she’s been working with all morning. The actress caught her Freudian slip of the tongue immediately. “-I mean, her writing. I’ve read all of her books and-”  
“She’s an incredible writer” the artist agrees, wanting to move past the awkwardness.  
“Right, well, you of all people know.”  
“So, you have questions about the character?” Clarke was eager to get on with it. She had a class that evening and made time to meet with the star playing Penelope per request of Octavia.  
“Yeah, um to be honest, she’s one of the most contradictory characters I’ve ever had to play.”  
“Maybe you’re over thinking it.”  
“That’s what Indra said. As much as I appreciate their trust in us as actors, it’s also been quite a challenge. I’ve never had this much freedom with a character. Lexa isn’t exactly direct about anything in her notes and even with Indra’s direction I still can’t get into Penelope’s psyche. I mean, the shit that O says and what she puts her through over and over again to me is unbelievable. Yet, she keeps coming back. I can only understand it at a surface level and it’s affecting my delivery and dynamic with Octavia.” The artist doesn’t know if she understands it either, so she tries to explain Octavia’s character, O, that’s based on Lexa instead.  
“O is Lexa, and Lexa has a way with words. She can drive you crazy with incessant unfiltered chatter, some nonsense but mostly decontextualized ideas” Costia grins and sees this tendency in the small amount of time she’s spent with the writer. “But, she also has a way of making you feel like you are the only thing that matters in the world. It’s her gift.” the actress was momentarily lost in the idea of Lexa charming her with such ease. “I mean really, that’s all any of us want right?”  
“To be loved?” the actress asks.  
“To feel like we’re alive and to be validated for exactly who we are. That could be all that your character wants.”  
“But, it wasn’t enough for you.” The actress was starting to confuse the character with the real person.  
“For me? or for Penelope?”  
“Sorry, I guess for both?” she asks hoping not to overstep the professional boundary. Clarke seems to be ok with it as the character was based on her.  
“Lexa’s great with moments. She has a problem with time. She processes it differently, to her, everything is a cyclical. She always says that we’re all on this journey with no end or beginning and all that really matters are the moments.”  
“But in the script, she’s trying to get back to Ithaca, her end and beginning. You’re her Ithaca.”  
“I haven’t read the script so it’s hard to say.”  
“Octavia says multiple times that Penelope is O’s Ithaca.”  
“Have you read the novel?”  
“Yeah, that’s why I wanted to do the film.”  
“Then you know that I’m not.” The actress is confused. “Maybe that’s why you’re having trouble with Penelope.”  
“But you’re Penelope”  
“It’s just a name. Who creates the stories to prolong the wait?” That’s when it all came together for Costia.  
“Oh my god, you’re right!” Clarke smiles as the actress’s light bulb was switched on. She can now make her way through Lexa’s fictional world. “So, the two of you are trying again?”  
“Yeah, you could say that” she says as they walk out of her studio.  
“So, I’ll see you at Dante’s party next weekend?”  
“Um, yeah, I guess” She recalls Lexa whining about some Producer’s party that Anya was forcing her to attend. 

Costia was fascinated by both women. She was grateful to finally have a better grasp of Penelope and insight on Clarke and Lexa. She was aware of the affect the writer had on her and this just made her even more curious and enticed. As much as she respected Clarke she couldn’t help her attraction to the writer. Clarke picked up on it from day one but wasn’t sure if it was the character or Costia. This meeting verified that it was the actress. Surprisingly she wasn’t concerned and has been much more like her confident and independent self since they have committed to one another. She only hoped that the project wouldn’t be affected in a negative way by whatever the actress was going through. 

 

***  
Next Weekend

“Have I told you how exquisite you look tonight?” Lexa asks as she leans into Clarke’s ear giving the blonde chills.  
“A few times” she smiles as the brunette grazes the space between her neck and jaw.  
“I think I need to remind you.”  
“Oh yeah?” she exhales as she attempts to control her breathing.  
“You are absolutely stunning. Sometimes I spend hours trying to put your beauty on paper, but words don’t suffice.” It’s amazing how the writer could make the artist make the rest of the world disappear for just a moment in time.  
“Lex-”  
“Muses sing of such beauty but it’s beyond the grasp of mortals” Clarke is beyond flattered and turned on more than she’d like to be at this Hollywood party that neither particularly wanted to attend.  
“Thank you” she says nibbling on her lobe. “You’re too sweet” she says before kissing her girlfriend.

“Lexa! There you are. Come, there’s people that want to meet you” her agent insisted.  
“Do I have to? Haven’t I suffered enough?”  
“Sorry to ruin the moment, but yes, you have to.” Clarke gives her one last peck before the writer turns to Anya.  
“Seriously, I’m out in 30 minutes.”  
“You just got here.”  
“We’ve been here for hours bullshitting with people I don’t care to know.”  
“1 hour”  
“Deal” Clarke answers to end the bickering between the two. “Go, I’ll see you in an hour” she insists adjusting the writer’s shirt and jacket.  
“What about you?”  
“I’m going to find Rae and mingle for a bit.”  
“Ok, beautiful.”

***  
Halfway through entertaining critics and producers, Costia was able to jump in and take over. Her motive was alone time with the writer who wouldn’t leave Clarke’s side most of the evening. This might be the actor’s only chance.

“How are you holding up?”  
“Hanging in there. Thanks for saving me back there.”  
“We make a pretty good team” the actress inches closer as the writer downs her whiskey. “You know they adore you.”  
“Ha! They’re projecting.”  
“Would it kill you to accept your greatness?”  
“I think it would” as Costia bursts out in laughter, she looks at her watch that read twenty more minutes until she could have Clarke to herself.  
“God, you’re irresistible” the writer backs away finally realizing what had been so obvious to most.  
“Um, I think you mis-spoke”  
“I don’t think I did” the alcohol made her bold. “This aloof, unassuming act is absolutely irresistible.” Lexa goes into putting out the fire mode, a skill she’s developed over the years.  
“Costia, as flattering as this is, I don’t feel the same” she says with a sincerity that couldn’t be mistaken.  
“Oh, come on Lexa. You must feel something, you chose me to play your muse” her tone is a mix of sultry and mischievous.  
“You are beautiful and talented and way out of my league”  
“So, what’s the problem?” she asks throwing her arms around her neck  
“I’m not available.” Lexa unwraps the blonde’s arms and keeps her at a distance. “I’d hate for this to interfere with our work.” It was at this moment that the actress realizes that she’s made a fool of herself.  
“Oh god” she says completely ashamed with her hands covering her face as she regains her senses. “You’re right. I’m so sorry. This is so inappropriate.”  
“Hey, it’s ok, alcohol can make us say crazy things that we don’t mean.”  
“Look, I’m sorry I put you in this position. I had a few drinks, but I can’t help what I feel and I mean what I said.” The writer froze.  
“Oh…”  
“Can we just forget this ever happened? My ego will recover overnight.”  
“Yeah, absolutely.” With that Costia turns and walks away to save herself further humiliation. Lexa couldn’t believe what just transpired between the two. It was a night of Carnival where people are all wearing masks and the subconscious surfaces to cause bacchanalian caos ending in orgies and mistaken identities and sin, a whole lot of sin. She had to get out of there, return to Earth with Clarke, where they could just be. 

***  
“Can I get you a drink?”  
“No thanks.”  
“Do you mind the company?”  
“No, please be my guest.”  
“Cage Wallace.” The tall handsome ken doll introduces himself with an arrogance that exuded from his pores. “Are you here alone?”  
“Clarke Griffin. A pleasure, and no, I’m not.”  
“Too bad, I was going to extend an invitation to my party.”  
“Isn’t this your party?”  
“Technically, it’s my father’s. My party is more exclusive, you should feel special” he says undressing her with his eyes.  
“Hmmm, thanks, but I’ll pass. Excuse me, my friend is waiting” He takes her in as she walks to Raven, completely put off by the smug asshole. 

“So you met the host’s asshole son. He asked me too” the Latina states after taking a swig of her martini that the blonde brought her.  
“God, who do these people think they are? And who actually accepts their invitation?” Clarke asks completely disgusted by the encounter.  
“You’d be surprised. There are lots of nobodies trying to make a name for themselves. It’s hard out here.”  
“This is what I hate about this city.”  
“I know, princess, but this is where your family is.”  
“What I do for my people” she dramatizes.  
“We appreciate your sacrifice.”

***  
Lexa was making her way through the Carnival to find Clarke. Her goal was to go unnoticed without saying goodbye to anyone. Then she saw her, Ontari. She would have ignored her, but she wasn’t alone. Cage was seducing the young actress that was like a sister to Clarke. She wanted to leave more than anything but she knows Cage and his after parties, her conscience wouldn’t allow her to go. _Fuck! _she turns to approach the two. Ontari was wasted.__

____

“Cage! Hey, great party!”  
“Lexa fucking Woods! Party is on the roof. See you up there?  
“Not tonight. Actually I’ve been looking for this one here” she says taking Ontari away from his grasp.  
“Heda! Come join us!” she slurs as she falls into the writer’s arms.  
“I’ve got this, Cage. I’ll take her home.”  
“What? No way!” the drunk girl screams as she flails her arms, causing a scene. “I’m staying for the party!” At this point Octavia, Anya and Lincoln see that Heda was involved.  
“Ontari, you’re drunk. Let me take you home” Her voice was serious and unwavering.  
“Fuck you! Go home to Clarke, that two faced bitch!” That was Lexa’s limit. “I know all about-” Lexa doesn’t let her finish as she reaches to carry her away by force. She’s met with resistance, scratching and screaming. “Get off me asshole!” Cage was amused and finally steps in taking her back in his protective grasp.  
“Goddammit, Ontari!” Lexa cries. It was not looking good so her crew comes to her rescue.  
“You heard the lady, Lexa. Do I need to call security?” Lexa was ready to knock the ken doll’s teeth out.  


“No, Cage, you don’t” Anya says as Lincoln hold his sister back. “We’re all on our way out. Sorry about that, you know writers” the agent reassures that it’s a nonissue to save the important professional relationship between the two companies. He lets it go ready to continue his evening. He looks to Lexa one last time.  
“Hey, Lex, send Clarke and that fine ass of hers my regards.” The writer was livid. He smirks and before he could enjoy his insult the writer punches him right in the face. It all unfolded too quickly for anyone to react or to stop it. Lincoln drags Lexa away with Octavia as Anya tries her best to put out the fire on the slowly burning bridge set by the writer.

 

“Heda, what the fuck?” Octavia asks completely appauled.  
“He’s taking advantage of Ontari.”  
“You can’t take a woman against her will!” the actress explains. “She’s of age, she’s done this before.”  
“She’s fucking wasted, O and she’s barely 18” the writer wouldn’t let it go.  
“Dammit, Lex!” Anya interrupts. “You can’t fuck around with these people. They have the power to destroy the project. Do you understand?!” The writer was silent, she knew she fucked up big time. Dante Wallace was a big fan of hers personally and whose company was producing the film. “Fuck! we have to get out of here.”  
“I’ll find Clarke and Raven” Octavia says. 

***  
Lincoln stays with Lexa and walks her to the door waiting for Clarke. The writer was now regretting the recent events of the evening. She’s been good lately, no major outbursts, but Cage triggered something in her. The stress that’s been lying on her shoulders since Ontari made her way back into her life and what it represented was what was released through her violent outrage. This represented the loss of Clarke and that’s what haunts her, constantly in fear of losing her muse again. 

 

Clarke runs the best she could to Lexa once she sees her. Their friends had caught her up on the drama and all she wanted was to take care of the writer, whose noble intentions were once again overlooked by her poor decision making and horrible temper. 

“Lex! Are you ok?” Lexa’s spirit lifts to see her girlfriend.  
“Hey, beautiful. I’m fine.” She kisses her chastely and hugs her a bit emotional and shaken up. “Let’s go home.”  
“Ok, I’m here. Let’s go” she reassures, noticing her girlfriend still shaken up. 

***  
Lexa’s quiet in the car and Clarke doesn’t want to push her to talk.

“O told me what happened.”  
“Oh yeah.”  
“He deserved it, Lex” the writer was surprised to hear her supporting her violent act.  
“Anya doesn’t agree.”  
“Not very professional, but I know where you were coming from"  
“You do?”  
“I would have done the same. O told me about Ontari.”  
“She did?”  
“Yes, thank you for trying. It means a lot” Clarke put her arm on her lap to show her gratitude.  
“I shouldn’t have let him take her.”  
“Lex, she made her decision. As hard as it is to accept, she’s done this before and will do it again.” Lexa is drowning in guilt. Even though it was Ontari who lied and took advantage of the writer when she was practically blacked out, she felt that she was no better than the others who have taken advantage of the young impressionable girl, clearly with serious insecurities and self-esteem issues caused by her psychopath mother.  
“I feel horrible about the whole thing.”  
“Let it go. Anya will fix it like she always does, and we both have to move on from Ontari and Roan. It's in the past. We tried to make peace, the rest is up to them” she reassures knowing how guilt has been plaguing the writer lately.  
“I love you, Clarke” she says holding her hand the rest of the drive home.  
“I love you too.”


	17. Reckoning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Clexa drama, heartache and angst. Lots of violence in this chapter.  
> I promise a Clexa happy ending, but it's going to take time.  
> Thanks for reading! :-)

Lexa turns to the ocean before she makes her way to pool deck where she could make out the young auburn-haired girl sunbathing. She had no idea how she got there, as if sleepwalking for the past 16 hours, now, at that very moment, she finds herself very much awake. Something would happen today in this meeting that will change the course of her journey. The sea is fierce with high winds and continuous waves crashing, she could barely hear herself think. She closes her eyes as if to pray, or rather, beg Poseidon for safe passage, but it was the keeper of the winds and secrets that would keep her from her Ithaca. She looks up towards Cage’s Malibu beach house. She takes a final hit of her cigarette before tossing it in the sand, she has to try.

“Ontari, we need to talk.”  
“You have my attention, Heda” she says without moving a muscle as she continues to take in the sun.  
“What happened between us… I barely even remember.”  
“It doesn’t make it less real” she sustains.  
“No, it doesn’t. But we both know that I was not in my right state of mind” the girl doesn’t budge. “You took advantage of me and lied to me” the desperation in her plea elicits a smirk from the girl.  
“Oh please, have you ever once taken responsibility for your actions?”  
“Have you?” was all she could come up with and it was weak.  
“Look, all this can be avoided. Just sign the rights of the movie over to my mom and you can go back home to your Penelope. Let it go, Heda.”  
“Think about Clarke, Ontari. This will hurt her” her voice is even more desperate than before.  
“She’s not my concern anymore” her indifference pushes the writer over the edge.  
“Goddam it, Ontari! Why are you doing this?!” The writer was losing control causing the girl to finally react, startled by her violent tone.  
“You need to go!”  
“I know it’s Cage manipulating you!”  
“You’re crazy! Get out!” At that point Cage comes running out finishing his phone call.  
“Call it off, Cage! You can’t fuck with people’s lives like this!” He hangs up the phone walking straight up to the writer, standing inches above her.  
“I can do whatever the fuck I want” he says without raising his voice, knowing that it will set the brunette off. “You see, this isn’t one of your novels. This is the real world and pretentious artists like you answer to-” 

Lexa doesn’t let him finish she clocks him right in the face, breaking his nose. He falls back as Ontari runs to his side concerned. He pushes her off as the writer comes at him again, not satisfied with the punch. He grabs a bottle of vodka and breaks it on the side of her head, nevertheless it doesn’t seem to slow her down. She’s immune to pain with her adrenaline raging and blood gushing from her head. The writer tackles him into the pool and proceeds with an unceasing series of blows to his face the pool slowly clouds red. Ontari is screaming hysterically finally pulling Lexa off of Cage. 

“What the fuck, Heda?! Get the fuck out!” Lexa looks at the aftermath of her rage and comes back to her body. She was most definitely fucked, there was no way out of it now. Cage is irate, his face devastated.  
“You’re fucked, Lexa! You’re done!” The writer can’t hear him or Ontari cursing anymore. She lets herself out, the harsh winds and breaking of the waves disorienting her. 

She’s in total shock and once again doesn’t know how she got to her street. Completely lost and alone, she stands there smoking a cigarette facing her house. Her sins have caught up to her and it was time for her comeuppance. 

 

***  
17ish hours ago

“I’m glad to finally meet you ladies” Andre’s mother says to Clarke and Lexa. “Andre can’t stop talking about you both, specially you, Heda.”  
“Please, you can call me Lexa.”  
“That’s nice to hear. We’re so glad you could make it for the event. He’s worked so hard on his mural” Clarke responds.  
“Yes, I had no idea how…” she lets out a melancholy sigh “good he is” She starts to choke up feeling guilt for missing out on part of her boy’s life. Lexa won’t have any of it, knowing how hard she works just to keep a roof over his head.  
“You inspire him, he gets it from you. We’re just lucky enough to be a part of it” the woman is grateful for her kind words. She gathers herself and takes the writer’s hand.  
“Thank you. His grades are up and he’s passing all of his classes. I know you had a lot to do with that.”  
“He’s a good kid, you did a great job” she says deflecting the complement.  
“I’ve been helping him with his applications for art school. His portfolio is coming along” Clarke shares. The woman was overwhelmed by the two angels guiding her son through his final year in high school. College seemed so unattainable for her kids, but with Andre leading the way, perhaps his siblings would follow suit. Finally, he calls her over to meet Echo and Gustus and she excuses herself. 

Clarke finds her way into Lexa’s arms as they take in the gigantic mural, a collage of his neighborhood, school, courts, poetry with the people in his life showcasing the writer as the Commander of the Nightbloods and as his mentor, with a ball in one hand and a book in the other. The brunette was touched and almost became emotional in public, practically shedding a tear at the reveal. The blonde was so proud of both of them, she loved to see the writer living up to her potential.

“I still can’t believe he did all this” Lexa says in awe.  
“Not bad, huh?”  
“It’s fucking fantastic!”  
“He really admires you, Lex.”  
“I’m starting to think that I should take my role more seriously” she pauses looking at herself from his perspective, in a position of leadership. “The Commander… I could get used to that.”  
“Uh huh, I’m sure you could” her girlfriend says as she tickles her smug grin right off of her face. Clarke’s assault was interrupted by a phone call.  
“It’s Anya, let me get this.”

“Lexa, I need you to come to the office” her tone was steady and firm.  
“Now?”  
“Yes, now.”  
“I can’t I’m at Andre’s mural thing.”  
“I know, Lex but this is urgent” there wasn’t an ounce of panic, even keeled and that worried Lexa.  
“Ok, on my way.” Clarke can tell something is off.

“Everything ok?”  
“Um, I don’t know. Anya needs me at the office.”  
“What’s wrong?”  
“She won’t tell me on the phone. I have to go. I’m sorry, I’ll call you.”  
“Ok, see you at home.” she kisses her lightly before walking towards Andre to say goodbye.

***  
“You’re here late, John Murphy.” He walks with her to redirect the writer.  
“She’s not in her office. They’re waiting for you in the conference room.”  
“What am I walking into, John?”  
“I honestly don’t know, but it doesn’t look good, Heda.”  
“Hmmmm, well, wish me luck” she says before opening the door. It wasn’t strange for Anya to be in the office so late on a Friday, what was strange, was that she wasn’t alone. The writer didn’t expect to see Nia fucking Winter of all people. She was accompanied by two henchmen in suits. Lexa’s heart is beating hard her entire body is in flight or fight mode. This was it, her reckoning.

As regal as ever she sat unperturbed by the awkwardness of the situation and Anya played along well, not showing an ounce of submission to the woman. 

“Lexa, take a seat” Anya says, keeping calm for both of them.  
“What’s going on here?”  
“Hello, Lexa. Good to see you.”  
“Nia.”  
“Lex, Nia insists that you be present for her proposal.” It takes everything for her to stay calm and focus long enough to hear her out.  
“Look, Lexa. I’m going to keep this simple, I want what’s in your best interest.”  
“We all know what you want so, get on with it”  
“Sign the rights to Penelope over to me.” the suit to her right pulls out the documents that await her signature. He slides them towards the writer. She’s not reacting the way Anya expected, to immediately reject the proposal without a second thought, but Lexa accepted the papers and skimmed through the agreement. Her agent was thoroughly confused.  
“Lex, you’re not considering this are you?” She asks her friend in confidence with her back turned from the opposition.  
“I have to.”  
“No, you don’t. Indra and her crew will be cut out of the project, the actors, and not to mention me. We’ll lose everything we’ve worked so hard for.”  
“I know, I’m sorry” she says with resignation. “I-”  
“Oh, we’re keeping Costia, but I have no use for the rest.” Lexa looks up at the embodiment of pure evil that interrupted her moment with her agent. Nia took pleasure in hurting people, her people and Lexa was not having it. She didn’t care what she would have to suffer, but there was no way she was going to let this woman win.

“I’ve made my decision” Lexa asserts. Nia anticipates the sweet sound of victory, but instead gets “Nia, go fuck yourself” she says in a professional tone looking straight at her. The older woman was livid as Lexa gets up to make her dramatic exit. Anya smirks disrespectfully towards Nia.  
“I think we’re done here.”  
“Oh, we’re just getting started” Nia says, more malevolent than usual. “I’m giving you one more chance, Lexa.” The writer stops in her tracks and turns around. “Sign it, or your name will be ruined forever.”  
“Empty threats will get you nowhere” Anya explains, sick of her bullshit.  
“Statutory rape is a serious crime and will ruin your, not so good name for the rest of your life. How would Clarke feel about all this. You know, my daughter was like a sister to her.” Anya looks at her friend who was paralyzed. The writer’s anger was tempered by the fact that she was having a panic attack.  
“Lexa? What the fuck is she talking about?” Anya asks.  
“I’ll leave you to it. You have 24 hours to make up your mind. If I don’t hear from you, consider yourself fucked!” and with that Nia lets herself out with her henchmen shadowing her.

The writer’s vision and hearing were compromised. She sees Anya as a blurr and can’t make out what she’s saying. Her chest felt swollen as her heart was pumping at a ridiculous rate.  
“Lex, are you ok?” she walks towards with caution as the writer tries to take a step forward. She was struggling to breathe as she falls to her knees. Before she loses consciousness she’s in Anya’s arms who appeared to be shouting for Murphy who immediately comes to help her drag the writer to her office. They lay her down on the couch where the last thing she sees are white lights before it fades into black. 

***  
“How long was I out?”  
“A good ten minutes. You really had the boss worried” Murphy explains.  
“Fuck” she says rubbing her temples with her head in her hands. “What did I do?”  
“You did the right thing” Anya says walking into the office and shutting the door behind her. “Lex, do you remember what happened?”  
“How could I forget?” she responds with annoyance.  
“Is it true?” Anya sits on her desk as Murphy tries to make an escape.  
“Stay, John Murphy” the writer commands. “This is your problem now too.” He does as he’s told and both wait quietly for her explanation as she paces the room. “Remember last New Years when we went to that producer’s party?”  
“Yeah”  
“Well, I was totally wasted and on the verge of black out when Ontari Winter started to flirt with me.”  
“Oh shit” Anya sighs.  
“She told me she was 20 and was coming onto me hard. I barely remember how I ended up in one of the bedrooms.” Anya closes her eyes in disappointment and shame shaking her head with disapproval.  
“How old?”  
“17” she finally admits. “I swear I passed out at one point” she says to ease the blow.  
“Christ, Lex, it doesn’t matter. She was a minor and you had sex with her! There’s no excuse that will get you out of this!” Anya was not impressed.  
“I know!” Lexa retaliates, she doesn’t need a lecture she needs a solution to her problem. “I know I fucked up, An! I can sign it over to Nia and lose Clarke because there’s no way she would believe that I willingly gave up my masterpiece and I refuse to continue lying about this fucked up situation to her or I can go to jail for statutory rape and lose Clarke. Either way I’m fucked, so you don’t need to remind me of how fucked I am, because I’m well aware!” Anya collects herself after being shook up by Lexa’s words. Poor, Murphy had to be the witness to it all.  
“You’re right. I’m sorry. You’ve got a lot to lose.” _Everything to lose _the writer corrects in her mind, _EVERYTHING. _“I’m here for you, Lex” she says walking to her. Lexa embraces her best friend, happy to not be alone as she faces her toughest challenge yet. “I’ve got you, ok? We’ll figure it out like we always do.”____

_____ _

She doesn’t go home that night and neither does Anya or Murphy. Anya tells Raven and Clarke that they had to meet a deadline for some edits and that she wouldn’t let Lexa leave until they finish. They go through all their possible options while Murphy prepares for the worst-case scenario, calling lawyers and researching legal implications of her actions. There was only one thing left to do, her only way out of this. So the next day after a sleepless night, she rides to the coast in search of absolution. 

 

***  
Lexa tosses her cigarette on the pavement and walks into her house. She smells Clarke and hears water running in the kitchen. She’s reluctant to go any further, she doesn’t know how to say it and is not ready for her reaction. The first time she broke her heart she wasn’t around for the aftermath, there was no running away this time. How could she let this happen again?

“Lex? I didn’t know when to expect you. Have you eaten?” she asks drying her hands. She then looks up to see her girlfriend with blood stains on her cheek, neck hands and shirt. Her face was bruised and lip swollen and cut. Her shirt was torn and she looked at Clarke with the saddest eyes the artist had ever seen. “Oh my God, Lex. What happened?” She immediately runs to her to take care of her and tend to her wounds. “Who did this to you? Was it-”  
She reaches for her face but Lexa take her arms and looks right into her eyes.  
“Clarke, I have to tell you something” This got her attention.  
“What’s wrong?”  
“I slept with Ontari.” There was no other way to say it. Premising it with the context wouldn’t lighten the sting.  
“What?” the blonde asks bewildered. “What are you saying?”  
“Last January at a New Years party, I slept with Ontari.” It clicked the second time around for the artist and her body reacted immediately pulling away from her grasp with disgust. “I didn’t know, she lied about her age and-” but Clarke had heard enough, she slaps the writer harder than she did the first time they reunited. Lexa seemed to welcome it, willingly taking the punishment as the artist pushes her away releasing all of her anger and pain from all of these years. The brunette allowed her the opportunity to let it all out.  
“How could you…?”  
“I was drunk, barely conscious. I’m so sorry, please-” she reaches for her but Clarke pushes her away enraged. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” she warns. “I can’t believe this is happening. All this time, you lied to me!” she’s frantic hands gripping her hair as she thinks of all the times the three of them were together, all the chances the writer had to tell her and then the image of the two of them together. “I can’t do this. What was I thinking?” she walks away, grabs her keys and purse and walks out the front door. Naturally, Lexa goes after her, she wasn’t ready to let her go.  
“Clarke!” she cries. “Where are you going?”  
“I can’t do this” she says as her entire body trembles. Before she can open her car door Lexa pulls her arm and draws her into a strong embrace and the blonde fights her the entire way. Her emotions on over drive, she cries out and struggles to get free.  
“Just let me explain, please!” Lexa begs. The neighbors come out to witness the scene. There are sirens nearing as Clarke uses all of her strength to break free and push her away.  
“Stay away from me!” she shouts. Before Lexa could go after her a cop car pulls up and they hold her back. The writer was now raging and punches one of the officers.  
“Clarke!” she yells, but the blonde just watches them restrain her before arresting her. The artist looks at the writer, eyes so desperate, dark… and sad. Then, they drive away. All Clarke could do was sit in her car and cry.


	18. Light at the End of the Tunnel?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! Appreciate the kudos and comments :-)

“There she is” Murphy announces with optimism as he approaches her with her sunglasses. The writer looks like she’s been run over by a truck. She squints and protects her eyes from the sun after being confined for 48 hours. “Heda, looking good.” She glares at him completely unamused. “Right, well, I got you this” he pulls out a bottle of water as Lexa puts on her shades.  
“Got anything stronger?”  
“Nope, boss’s orders.” The brunette rolls her eyes under her glasses before taking a swig. “You must be famished. I know, I’ll take you to that breakfast place on the corner of-”  
“I need you to take me to Clarke’s” she demands. Murphy is silent as she walks towards his car. “What are you waiting for? Today, John” her tone more urgent.  
“Uh, I can’t do that.”  
“Why?”  
“I have orders.”  
“From Clarke?”  
“And the boss and the Mrs.” The writer sighs. “Let’s just go get some food before going to the office, my treat.” She lifts her glasses and looks directly into her friend’s terrified eyes.  
“John Murphy, I am not asking you, I’m telling you. Take me to Clarke’s” she says with unwavering conviction.  
“Right away” he whimpers. 

The only think she could bring herself to think about while incarcerated was Clarke, how this was all a mistake, a huge misunderstanding. If she could explain the situation, she was confident that she would take her back, or at least forgive her.

“What the hell do we pay you for?” Raven asks shaking head with disapproval at Murphy. “You had one job.”  
“She’s very persuasive” he defends.  
“Go away, Heda, I’m not letting you in.”  
“I get it, Rae, you’re a good friend, but this is my life that I’m trying to salvage.”  
“Is it true?”  
“Yes, and also incredibly complicated.”  
“I believe you, I do, but this is low even for you.”  
“You’re not wrong.” Just as Raven was about to give in to the writer, Clarke storms to the hall, lifting the writer’s spirits before being demoralized once more.

“Get the fuck out of here, Lexa!” She shouts in a whisper trying not to make too much noise because of the baby napping.  
“Clarke, please. Can we talk about this?”  
“You need to go before Andre gets here.” she scolds.  
“How is he? I have to talk to him.”  
“You can’t, his mother doesn’t want you contacting him anymore.” The writer was now facing the repercussions of her irresponsible actions for the first time. It reverberated beyond Clarke, this was her entire world that seemed to be crumbling.  
“What? That’s not fair.”  
“Can you blame her? Do you really want to tell him the truth? That you fucked a girl the same age as he is.” She was indignant and had no sympathy for Lexa. Her scorn debilitated the writer and soon she was convinced that all these small deaths would literally kill her. “You know, he doesn’t believe any of it.” The blonde starts to lose her calm as her voice quivers and another piece of Lexa dies.  
“Please, just let me-”  
“Get off my property or I’ll call the police.” Even Raven and John felt the sting of her last words before slamming the door shut, as if to take it for the writer who was completely devastated. Behind the door, the artist breaks down, her hands covering her face to keep from waking the baby as she cried her heart out.

“Clarkey, come here” Ravens’ maternal instinct takes over as she hugs her best friend. “It’s ok, you’re ok.”  
“I don’t think I am” she sobs.

 

***  
Lexa and Anya sat before a pedant of a woman who was explaining the process of the arraignment for the following day. Her office was immaculate with everything perfectly placed same as her flawless outfit of grey skirt suit with a white blouse, exceptionally white teeth, and without a hair misplaced on her tightly pulled back bun. She had _professional, powerful and ruthless _written all over her. She spoke concisely and with eagerness regardless of the disinterest of her client who was slouched in her chair with her shades on. Anya was listening with intent until both are distracted by a snoring sound coming from the writer. The agent’s eyes widened with shame. She immediately hits her client to wake her up. The lawyer lifts an eyebrow.__

____

“Huh?” The writer grunts. Anya looks apologetically at the lawyer.  
“Lex, sit up” She whispers harshly. The lawyer was amused.  
“What?”  
“She’s explaining your arraignment.” Lexa sits up and lifts her shades, she sees the robotic woman smiling with her lips sealed.  
“Can I smoke in here?” the writer asks as she reaches for her lighter.  
“There’s no smoking in the building” the raven-haired woman says as Lexa continues to light her cigarette. “Give me that” Anya scolds her friend like a child as she grabs the lighter from her.  
“Hey! I was using that.”  
“Are you serious?” the lawyer asks.  
“Who’s asking?” she looks to Anya completely dumbfounded by the writer’s behavior.  
“Lexa, again, this is Becca, the best lawyer at getting deviants like you off on this side of the San Andreas fault.”  
“Does she always act like an idiot?”  
“If you get to know her, she’s actually a decent human being” Lexa smiles at the lawyer as if to tell her so.  
“That’s great news, because on paper she looks like a total asshole” she retorts smiling right back at the writer who couldn’t argue. “Look, it seems that Ms. Woods’ only interest is in wasting my time so, allow me to see you both out.”  
“Apologize now” Anya prompts her friend.  
“Look, I’m sorry. My behavior is totally unacceptable. Please, I’ll do anything you say, I’ll walk through all the hoops and smile at the end of it. I’m at your total mercy.” Becca looks at the writer as to compute the sincerity of her words and the benefits of taking on this case. “Whatever you say, I’ll do it.”  
“Start with a shower, you smell like garbage. See you tomorrow, don’t be late.” With that she gets up and opens the door for them. There was something extremely attractive about the woman’s wit that would normally attract the writer, but she was too exhausted and depressed to allow it to sink in.

 

That night, Anya takes her to her brother’s house, they’re briefed on the situation and stand by her. They feel for her but understand where Clarke is coming from. They tell her time will fix everything, before heading to bed. Her mind won’t let her sleep, she’s haunted by everything Clarke. It hurt too much, so she drinks until she passes out on the couch. 

 

***  
Bellamy and Echo went to Clarke’s to keep her company after Raven left. She’s appreciated the company, just in case, Lexa would make a surprise appearance again. She wondered why it had to be so hard with her, why can’t it ever be easy, like it used to be in New York. Then reality hit, _it’s not good writing material, _she was a fool to think that Lexa had changed. When her thoughts drift to this, her anguish turns to fury, so it was good to have her friends around, especially since she wasn’t quite ready to deal with her mother’s I told you so lecture.__

____

“When will you talk to her?” Echo asks in a gentle manner to encourage her to share.  
“I don’t know. The idea of being around her is unfathomable right now.”  
“I’ve always known she was an asshole, but I never thought she could do something like this” Bellamy admits.  
“She would never have, if she had known” Echo stands by her friend knowing her character. Clarke believed it deep down but was too upset to concede.  
“I feel so deceived, you know?”  
“I can’t imagine” her friend says putting her arms around her.  
“So, when did it happen?” Bellamy asks trying to put it all together.  
“Last New Years… I guess” Clarke answers not really sure of the facts, not giving her a chance to explain. “Before we moved to LA.”  
“Did you know her then?”  
“Yeah, we’d met when she visited Roan and I in New York, and talked frequently, she was like my sister” the more Clarke talked about the more abhorred she was, and it didn’t go unnoticed by the couple.  
“To be fair, Clarke, this happened before you” Echo says putting it in perspective.  
“Yeah, but she kept it from her when she found out who she was.”  
“Can you blame her? It’s not exactly a easy topic to get into” Echo responds to her boyfriend.  
“There’s no easy way to do hard things, but you do it” Bellamy affirms. It was nice for the artist to hear the two sides of her situation, but it was her and Lexa’s situation no one else’s. She will eventually have to have the talk with the writer, but she was nowhere near ready.

 

***  
The next morning she’s abruptly awakened by Anya, her head pounding she resisted her agent’s demands of her getting dressed. She had her arraignment and of course was late. Lincoln and Octavia had already left for work leaving the writer after they had woken her for her big day. She immediately passes out on the couch once they shut the door. Anya has to practically dress the writer who wasn’t helping in any way. They were only thirty minutes late.

“Hurry get out!”  
“Jesus, ok” Anya’s voice all morning was like a loud siren causing her to cringe. She jumps out of the car and orients herself. She sees Becca and appreciates her lawyer ensemble that was of course on point. She had the hungover loser look down pretty well that morning as she ambles towards the taller woman. “Good morning” she greets.  
“What part of ‘don’t be late’ did you not understand?”  
“I’m sorry, I’m here now so let’s do this. I’m ready to see you in action” she says forcing some excitement in her delivery as she heads towards the courtroom  
“Don’t bother.”  
“What’s the problem.”  
“They dropped the assault charges.”  
“That’s great news! Thank you.” She exclaims with sincere vigor this time as she goes in for a hug that she was immediately denied.  
“I’m not finished” she says as man and woman walk up to them.  
“Lexa Woods?”  
“In the flesh.”  
“You’re under arrest.”  
“What the fuck?” she says looking to Becca for answers.  
“They agreed to drop the assault charges, but you’re being charged for statutory rape.” The writer was speechless, there wasn’t an ounce of struggle as she willingly let them take her away, again. “Keep your mouth shut!” Becca calls out after her.  
“Hey! Wait!” Anya shouts. “What’s going on?”  
“This case just got so much more interesting” she responds, thrilled for the challenge.


	19. Ambivalence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning/Reminder: This is fiction based on Californication and the 100 characters with a focus on the Clexa. I own nothing.
> 
> Thank you all for reading! :-)

A couple weeks have passed and it was time for Clarke to face her mother. She’s been calling and leaving messages since she caught wind of the scandal. Dr. Griffin has no intentions of telling her daughter that she paid her bail, that’s between her and Raven. She felt for the writer, who she has always believed was a good person who’s made some questionable choices. How she values Lexa as an individual doesn’t mean she agrees with her dating her daughter. Nevertheless, she knows who Lexa is at the core and doesn’t believe that she would have ever even considered the act if she had known the accuser’s age. This dinner was about her daughter. 

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” she asks kissing Clarke’s forehead as she’s enveloped in her mother’s arms.  
“I’ve been better.”  
“Hi, Clarke.” Cane gives her a very consoling hug. It was nice and unexpected from the man she barely knew.  
“Well, you can’t listen to the media” Abby stresses.  
“She told me herself that she did it, Mom.”  
“Yeah, but she had no idea, I mean this has black mail written all over it” Abby defends. Clarke was surprised and confused by her mother’s stance. How would she know anything unless she _had _been listening to the news or spoken to Lexa directly? Clarke hasn’t done either.__  
“I don’t know what to think.”  
“Have you talked to her?” Cane asks.  
“No, she’s tried to contact me but I can’t even look at her.”  
“What about Ontari?” her mother asks.  
“She cut me off after the break up.”  
“How can she go from adoring you to acting like you don’t exist?” Abby asks already suspicious of the young girl.  
“She’s young and impressionable... I guess.” She still wasn’t sure why Ontari had cut her off completely after she ended it with Roan. She assumed it was a loyalty issue, but she denied Clarke when she tried to reach out.  
“Exactly why they don’t have that strong of a case” the doctor affirms.  
“It doesn’t matter. She still did it.” Her mother’s behavior was starting to annoy her. How could she all of a sudden be defending an inexcusable act? “What’s worse is she lied to me.”  
“How so?” Cane wonders.  
“She didn’t say anything when I introduced them at our house warming party.” The couple look at each other speechless. “I’m such an idiot! You were right again, mother.”  
“Oh, Clarke. You can’t punish her for her past.”  
“Are you kidding me right now?” she asks completely aghast.  
“She should have told you” Cane chimes in to show that he understands where Clarke is coming from. A nice equalizer for Abby who tends to be more direct about matters of the heart.  
“Thank you, Marcus.”  
“I think, what your mother is trying to say is that it’s complicated” he says before Abby explains further.  
“Clarke, you can’t only love her for her potential. She is who she is.” This pushed Clarke over the edge as her anger takes over the conversation. Who was anyone to tell her how to love the most difficult person to be with.  
“What are you talking about? _I _, of all people, have loved her for exactly who she is! This is my curse, _she _is my curse!” The two remain silent as Clarke collects herself to avoid unwanted attention. Then, her mother says something transcendent . Something that will question everything the artist has been feeling and thinking since she’s moved back home.__  
“I’m just saying, maybe this isn’t just about Lexa.” Clarke couldn’t have prepared for her words. Her mother knows her well, better than she knows herself. That’s the point. She contemplates and lets it simmer before she gives up on the profundity of her message.  
“Maybe, I was wrong, maybe I can’t handle the complexity of being with her.”  
“Whatever it is, Clarke. You owe it to both of you to tell her exactly what it is that you need and want.”__

_____ _

She hated that her mother was right. This wasn’t about Ontari. She’s always known about the writer’s promiscuity, alcoholism and melancholy. She also knows the other versions of Lexa, the woman that’s aware of all her shortcomings and takes full responsibility for her actions and words. She knows the loyal, honest and passionate woman that would give up everything for her art and people. She knows her, all of her, a burden and a gift of those closest to Lexa. Clarke believes deep down that she was absolutely unaware of the situation. She recognizes that she’s human and didn’t know how to tell her something as heinous as this circumstance. She has to come to terms with the fact that this wasn’t about Lexa. This was about Clarke.

 

***  
7 days ago more or less

“Ladies, I assure you that I will stay behind you through this scandal” Indra, Anya, Costia and Octavia were relieved and comforted to hear the words directly from Dante Wallace himself. “The media will drag Lexa and this film to hell and back, but in the end, it will debut in Cannes and you ladies will have done something meaningful! The road is seldom easy and never laid out for pioneers, you must pave the path of change and the future of this industry. Vanguards, that’s what you are!” His passion for the project was genuine and so was his admiration of the writer. “Lexa could have signed it over to Winter Productions, but she understands that this is bigger than her or any one of us. It’s not about ego or pride, it’s about art. This is the attitude I want you to take into the final weeks.”  
“Thank you, Dante for believing in us” Indra says full of gratitude as she has poured her heart and soul into the project.  
“No, I should be thanking you. Now, how’s it coming with our writer?”  
“My assistant is picking her up first thing tomorrow.”  
“Good, if there’s anything she needs financially, come to me” he says to Anya who would have liked to hear those words before Raven asked Abby for help with bail. 

 

***  
“Heda! Over here!” Murphy shouts from his car. She jogs towards him and gets in the front seat.  
“Gotta say, John, I’m surprised to see you. I didn’t know I had this kind of cash.”  
“You don’t” she’s not happy to hear that.  
“Fuck. Who was it?”  
“No idea.” Somehow, she believed him and left it alone.  
“Where are we headed?”  
“You have a meeting with Becca.”  
“Here we go again.”

 

“Counselor, you really should stay away from that trash” she says walking in on her watching tv.  
“You’ve created quite a scandal.”  
“Guilty.”  
“Not the best choice of words” she says pausing the screen. “She doesn’t seem to have much of a case. The media is already making her out to be a diva with a jealous boyfriend and opportunistic mother.”  
“Hmmm, and where might they have gotten that idea?”  
“A little media pressure doesn’t hurt” the lawyer states winking at her client. It does something to the writer. This woman was coldhearted yet her passion for her work was very appealing. “It’s her word against yours. She was 3 months from legal age, lied about it and has a motive. You know what this means don’t you?” the writer gives her a blank look, too focused on the dark-haired woman whose wink raised a few hairs on the back of her neck.  
“Her case is weak, I’m expecting a plea deal from the prosecution this week.”  
“That’s it?”  
“Well, if you had no awareness of age, then I’m sure we can work out a deal.”  
“You’re a genius. Have dinner with me.” The brunette surprised herself with the directive. Her subconscious was speaking on her behalf. The lawyer lifts her eyebrow and sits back amused by her confidence.  
“No.”  
“No? Why not?”  
“It’s not pro-”  
“A work-related dinner. We have a lot to discuss, why not dine with me and kill two birds with one stone?” She smiles and analyzes the shameless writer. She was honest, upfront and sincere, all very attractive characteristics to the lawyer. For that reason, it was absolutely inappropriate.  
“Does this really work for you?”  
“Sometimes. Oh, come on, counselor, let me do something nice for you. I’ve been a total ass.”  
“True, but I’m pretty sure you can’t afford me.”  
“Hmmm, I’m not sure if that’s true” she says in all honesty.  
“Save your money. I’ll see you in a few days, Lexa. We have a lot of work to do” she says standing up to walk her to the door.  
“Looking forward to it, counselor. You know, I’m quite a charmer once given a chance.” She says putting out her hand. The lawyer concedes and takes it into hers with a smile.  
“I don’t doubt it, goodbye. And stay out of trouble” she says before closing the door on the writer. Lexa left the room with a hop in her step that Murphy noticed immediately. The constant rejection and playful dynamic between the two were giving her some much needed encouragement. It reminded her of something, someone.  
“Looks like it went well.”  
“Time will tell, John Murphy.” 

 

***  
“Honey, I’m home.”  
“Heda! Welcome back!” Raven says giving her a hug.  
“Thanks, mama. Good to see you” she responds kissing her cheek and holding on tight.  
“You’re in high spirits” her best friend observes.  
“I’m here, I’m queer and I need to make some fast mula, agent” she says hugging the taller woman.  
“Slow your roll. How did your meeting with Becca go?”  
“Swell, she’s sexy and intelligent” the women roll their eyes.  
“Uh huh” Anya says concerned. “Nice little narrative she spun for the media.”  
“Not bad at all.”  
“Lex, promise me you’ll be on your best behavior. She’s a godsend, you can’t fuck it up.”  
“I will try my utmost.”  
“Good. Oh, and by the way, Wallace is behind you 100%.”  
“Really? That’s surprising since his son has a personal vendetta against me.”  
“You really think he’s behind it all huh?” Raven asks.  
“No doubt. Ontari may be crazy, but she’s not cruel” she says repeating Ontari’s own words.  
“But her mother is.”  
“This is all Nia and Cage” the writer declares. “Truly a fucked-up pair.”  
“So that’s how Winter Productions came to be” Anya says as it all comes together.  
“Yup, he’s bankrolling it just to fuck with me. Ontari is merely a pawn in all this.” The writer feels bad about how it all turned out. Again, the girl she still somehow feels responsible for is being manipulated by those in a position of power. A part of her has wanted to help her knowing how her mother is and the guilt of her losing Clarke in the breakup, but she knows that it’s not her place. She has her own problems to deal with. 

“So, we have a meeting with Showtime next week. They want to do a show on the scandal and they want you to write it.”  
“It’s a bit soon, no?”  
“No time like the present. It’s Showtime you have to do it.” She thinks of the money and how much she owes for bail and Becca’s services.  
“Fine, I’ll sell my soul, whatever’s left of it, but they can’t have my body.” She embellishes her act with a hand to her chest.  
“I’m likin’ the attitude.” Anya was surprised and impressed by the reaction. It was nice to not have to fight the writer to do some work.  
“It’s a little strange” Raven responds. “Are you sure you’re ok?”  
“As well as can be expected. Now, which one of you has my allowance?” Raven points to her lover.  
“A _Penelope _check is coming next week” Anya answers.__  
“Credit it is.”  
“Also, the wrap party is next weekend. We finish shooting this week.”  
“Really? Already?.”  
“You did it, you crazy genius! Without you, none of it would have been possible.”  
“We did it. All of us” she says overwhelmed by the news. Raven hands the two women a glass of wine.  
“To Penelope and Becca for keeping your ass out of the clinker” the Latina toasts raising her glass. 

____

It was a well needed evening with her two favorite women. She had some quality time with her godchild and it was the closest to normal she’s had in a long time. It temporarily kept her mind off of the scandal and Clarke. The Mary Jane and red wine kept her sedated after dinner as they sat on patio laughing while reminiscing. They enjoy the momentary silence as they catch their breathes from so much laughter. 

“Clarke hates me.”  
“Give her time, Heda” the Latina says.  
“Yeah, I don’t think time is going to fix it this time.” Her friends don’t know how to respond. “Andre hates me too.”  
“I don’t think so. He doesn’t believe the news.”  
“Have you seen him? How is he?” she asks knowing that she had indeed seen him the day Clarke slammed the door on her.  
“He’s doing fine. Clarke helped him put his portfolio together. In fact, he has a campus visit and interview next week.”  
“No shit” Lexa was supposed to be the one to guide him through the process. She was glad that Clarke had taken over in her absence. Anya glares at her wife who mouths ‘sorry’ back. Mary Jane gets her talking. “I need to talk to him.”  
“In time, Lex. Once this thing blows over” Anya advises, not wanting her to get in any trouble in the meantime.  
“Yeah, you’re right.” Both hoped that that was the end of that. 

 

The writer continues to self-medicate with whiskey and MJ, enough to still function and work and flirt with Becca during the day and spend her nights at her local bar and stumbling home to pass out on her bed. She finishes the week managing to stay out of trouble. The weekend comes and she doesn’t know if she’ll make it without a few bad decisions so she spends it with Gustus and Echo at the tattoo shop. 

 

***  
“I had absolutely no idea” the writer declares as she downs her whiskey.  
“We know, Heda. We believe you” Echo says rubbing her back to comfort her friend. This is the lowest she’s seen her and it was not easy to witness.  
“I mean, I was barely conscious. If anything, _I _should press charges.”__  
“Doesn’t really work that way” her uncle echoes.  
“No, it doesn’t” and with that she downs the rest of her whiskey. The bartender looks to Gustus for permission to refill her glass. “Come on man, do me a solid” she pleads tapping her fingers on her glass.  
“I’ve got her” Echo assures.  
“Thank you” she says before taking a swig. “I assume your boyfriend doesn’t approve of you or Clarke spending time with me.”  
“You shouldn’t assume.”  
“The noble Bellamy! The moral compass for us all!” her proclamation got the attention of the people playing pool.  
“Take it easy, Heda” Gustus says giving the guys an apologetic look.  
“Apologies” she directs to the table. “I just… I fucked up” she says getting choked up at the thought of Clarke thinking the worst of her. Melancholy settles in and she’s ready to go so she finishes her sixth drink of the evening and Gustus practically carries her to Echo’s car. 

____

The drive home consisted of slurred mumblings about Clarke. She was in bad shape and Echo wanted to help but all she could do was make sure she’s safe for the night. She gets her undressed and puts her to bed.

“Everyone hates me.”  
“No one hates you.”  
“Clarke will never talk to me again.”  
“She needs time.”  
“What do I do? How do I fix this?”  
“You get your shit together and you show her that you’re still the woman that she’s always loved.”  
“Am I?”  
“This isn’t you, Heda. Don’t let the world define you.”  
“You know what scares me?”  
“What?”  
“That maybe, _I am _what they say.” The blonde hears her snoring before she can respond. She kisses her forehead and tucks her in tight before heading out. She leaves her friend to sleep it off.__


	20. Superfluous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Brief Lexa and Costia scene, lots of drugs and alcohol, it gets worse before it gets better.
> 
> We're more or less at the halfway mark.  
> Thanks for staying with me! :-)

_She was cast to shore, barely alive in her ripped dark jeans and black shirt. Sun rays start to seep through as her eyelids raise with caution. Her muscles are heavy, and she tastes sea salt on her lips. She scans her surroundings and slowly sits up, white sands stretch to the green tree line of the island. She stands and finds that there is a group of strangers in white staring at her, they appeared from nothing. She doesn’t recognize any of their faces or language. “Where am I?” she asks. They look at her in murmuring nothing as she stumbles towards them trying to get answers. She falls to her knees and she grabs her head, confused and nauseated she looks up and sees a blur of a figure in the distance. It was a woman in white walking towards her, she blinks a few times to focus on the mirage and realizes who it was. “Clarke?” she looks straight into her green eyes and says nothing, instead she lifts her hand and swings it towards her face. As she awaits the impending blow, the writer opens her eyes abruptly and breathes deeply. She’s struggling for air as she wakes. ___

____

“Lex, are you ok?” a low, soothing voice asks. The writer realizes that her hand was cradled in another’s as she looks to her left at the woman standing over her with tired eyes glazed with concern.  
“Am I dreaming?”  
“No, I’m here” she coos. Although she could barely feel her muscles she managed a smile.  
“This can’t be real” she mumbles taking in her love’s presence.  
“I wish it wasn’t. Do you know where you are?” Lexa looks around, powder blue curtain behind the blonde, bleak white walls and ceiling. She notices an IV attached to her right arm.  
“How long?”  
“Two days.” The writer attempts to sit up but immediately falls back on her pillow. Clarke wipes her head with a cool cloth seeing that she was sweating. “Take it easy.”  
“What are you doing here?” she asks elated to see her yet surprised as fuck.  
“You have to promise me that you’ll come to me next time.” This confused the writer more. “No matter how bad it gets, you can always come to me” her voice cracks and she starts to sniffle. Lexa thinks back to the past 48 hours and gets flashes of her drunken stupor with bottles of whiskey on her desk next to her typewriter with her most recent letter still fresh. She’s written various since Clarke reentered her world. Then the pills, lots of them, spilled over on her letters. _Fuck _she thinks. She feels a grinding pain in her head, she doesn’t want to close her eyes, she wants to enjoy her time with Clarke, but she can barely form a sentence as she slowly fades.__

____

 

***  
3 days ago

Lexa has been cooped up in her house working on the script for Showtime since her evening with Echo and Gustus. Her friend’s words resonated with her from the night before and it inspired her to tell her story. She doesn’t eat or sleep for two days, which has given her the chance to sober up a bit and write the incident from varying perspectives. She stepped out of her tunnel and created her character from the point of view of those around her. She hits print lights a celebratory cigarette, sits back and puts her feet up, pleased with the final product. Before she could enjoy her moment there’s a banging at the door. She grabs her shirt and walks to the thresh hold still in her boy shorts from two nights ago.

“Hold your horses!” she calls out as the banging persisted.  
“Where the hell have you been?”  
“Good morning to you too sunshine.”  
“It’s three in the afternoon.” The writer sticks her head out and sees the sun leaning west in the sky and shrugs before following her agent into her pigsty of a house. “Jesus, what happened in here?”  
“You like what I’ve done to the place? No? Not so much?" Anya was not in the mood to play. "So, what brings you to my humble abode?”  
“Making sure you’re still alive. Your phone is dead” she says plugging it in after finding it underneath a pile of dirty clothes in her room.  
“I’ve been-” Anya didn’t want to hear excuses. They were worried that something had happened after realizing that no one had seen or heard from her.  
“You missed your meeting with Becca today.”  
“Shit, what day is it?”  
“We have our meeting with Showtime tonight.”  
“Speaking of which, I have something for you, my high cheek boned friend.” The brunette takes her agent’s arm and leads her to the kitchen where she’s been camped out for the past 48 hours. “Ta da!” she says handing her the script.  
“Well, well. Very impressive.” The writer is relieved that her friend’s mood has swayed. She skims through the first couple of pages with a smile on her face.  
“Not bad eh?”  
“Well done.” This gave the writer hope, something she hasn’t had in a while. Maybe she could get through this and maybe Clarke would still have her. 

 

***  
The meeting was a home run for Lexa. They loved the script and couldn’t wait to get started. The only thing left for the writer to do was convince a star to play her on the show. Lexa is hesitant to participate in recruiting, but the actor insisted on meeting her before making a decision. Anya didn’t mention anything until the meeting knowing that her friend would fight her every step of the way. It was settled, if she wanted to get paid, she had to get the actor on board. With her new found inspiration to live, Lexa decided that she would share it with the person that she desperately wanted to see. Her very reason for living, her muse. She takes the risk of being rejected once again, but if she were to give the writer even just a moment, it would be well worth it.

It was beautiful afternoon as she sits on a bench on campus by the art building, showered with her usual attire but at least put together with her bruises and cuts mostly healed and completely sober. She waits for the Artist to come back to her studio after accompanying Andre on his interview and tour. She hoped to talk to them both and was a bit nervous for the reunion, especially since it was a surprise.

She rehearses ways of greeting the artist as she sat waiting on the bench under a Jacaranda. Then, she hears a vivid cackle that was like music to the writer’s ears. She sees the artist in the distance laughing as she walked with Andre. It takes her a second to realize that on the other side of the blonde was a tall, dark handsome gentlemen dressed like a professor. Clarke gently shoves his strong shoulder as he’s rewarded with giggles and smiles. The writer was never that good at math, but it was clear that there was no room for her in the equation. This fit, stylish and witty fellow was evoking laughter from Clarke and Andre with his words. Lexa was superfluous. 

All confidence and hope dissipated instantly. She wasn’t angry, this was a new emotion for the writer. She has never felt so inadequate before. She was drowning in her insecurity. An ocean of lack has devoured her and once again Ithaca was nowhere in sight. 

 

***  
“Where the hell is this guy, Anya?” The writer was over it, all she wanted to do was drink her way into the dream world.  
“Patience, Heda. He’ll be here” she reassures as she looks at her watch. The actor was over a half hour late which Lexa found strange as he was staying at the hotel where they were meeting. Finally, Costia comes rushing towards them apologizing for the delay. Lexa was, to say the least, surprised to see the actress.  
“To what do we owe this pleasure?” the writer asks as she stands to give her a kiss on the cheek. She smelled delicious and looked exquisite in tight jeans and a low cut top that the writer couldn’t help but admire.  
“Hey, Lex. It’s good to see you” she was ecstatic to see her for the first time since the scandal started. She held on longer to show her appreciation and support for the writer.  
“So, Heda, Costia is the one who told our guy about the project.”  
“He’s a really good friend of mine. We’ve known each other for years.”  
“And where _is _your friend?”__  
“Sorry, he gets distracted easily.” She sees him and waves him over to their corner. “There he is.” A tall, slim, scruffy looking guy with unkept hair sticking out of his beanie and shades makes his way over. His ripped skinny jeans and rolling stones t-shirt made him very unlikeable to Lexa. It was like looking into a mirror in which she saw a younger douchebag version of herself. “Lexa Woods, meet Jasper Jordan.”  
“Lexa fucking Woods!” he says taking her hand and going through the shaking motion to pull her in for a hug. “Finally, the woman behind the scandal.” The writer glares at her agent on the other side of the hug and mouths ‘I hate you.’ Anya gives her a toothy smile in return. This was going to be a long night.

____

 

“I think it’s brilliant! I’ve never played a fucking woman before. I hear them calling my name at the Emmys!”  
“Well, the character is a man” Anya corrects.  
“But Lexa’s a woman.”  
“But not on the show. We wanted to distance her from it.” After a few drinks the writer was settling in more comfortably into her seat for the Jasper Jordan spectacle. She was starting to be amused by the character and content to let Anya do all the work.  
“So, I’m playing you as a man?” the actor looks to Lexa for an explanation.  
“Uh, yeah. That’s the idea.” The actor is deep in thought, his eyebrows gather his forehead to his third eye. They sit in silence and wait for a reaction. The writer was thoroughly amused and can’t help but grin at the sight. It looked painful to think so hard.  
“Ok, I’m in.” he says casually for dramatic effect.  
“Yes! You’re in! You won’t regret this, Jasper.” Anya was thrilled to land the Oscar winning actor and Lexa, even more so to go home for the night.  
“Great, I’m out. Good to meet you, welcome on board” she says standing up to leave. She’s not met by anyone else.  
“Get us another round, agent” the actor orders. “Lexa and I have some bonding to do.” Her eyes grow wide in opposition but Anya doesn’t let her get out of it.  
“Another round it is” Anya says pulling her client down to sit. She, on the other hand, was free to go.  
“I need to know you, Lexa. I don’t half ass my performances.”  
“You don’t actually have to know me. Just read the script.”  
“No way, man. This is the real fucking thing” Lexa looks to Costia to ask if he was for real. The blonde smiles and shrugs as if to disassociate from her eccentric friend. The writer smirks and they exchange a moment, at least she wasn’t alone. “I’m going to embody Lexa fucking Woods, her motivation, her flaws her quirks, her demons. I am you.” The writer was decided that she could resist and hate herself and the guy that would be playing her more than she already does, or she could make an evening of it, enjoy Costia’s company and forget about her shit day with Clarke and her dark chocolate replacement.

 

***  
Once the three loosened up, they took the party to his room and were joined by a few beautiful women that were eying all three of them all night. It was an evening of debauchery and the atmosphere even more lewd after a few lines of snow. Lexa was feeling pretty damn good, better than she had in a while. She wonders why she didn’t turn to the drug sooner instead of alcohol, then she remembers that she feeds off of her melancholy, and then realizes that she had been voicing her thoughts out loud for the entirety of her high as she sat in between the two actors. 

Jasper’s attention was quickly lost and he immediately needed more physical activity. He leaves the two women alone on the couch and is followed by the two strangers out of the hotel room. Costia doesn’t waste any time and straddles the writer with her cleavage right in her face. The actress knew where the writers eyes would continuously fall. The brunette was in no condition to deny the beautiful woman her request and passively surrenders her mouth to her. Costia tasted sweet like the cocktails she had consumed with a hint of mint, she couldn’t complain as she devoured more and more of the closest thing to her muse that she could get. Blue eyes, blonde hair, and husky moans of encouragement, the illusion persuaded the writer as she closes her eyes to enjoy the moment. 

Her hands found their way under the actress’s shirt. She even _felt _like Clarke, her skin, shape and movements. Costia had perfected their dance as Penelope, confusing the writer’s fiction with reality. She takes control and throws her on her back but before she was completely engulfed in the simulation, the male version of Lexa barges in in a panic. The writer opens her eyes, sees her friend and was immediately transported back to Earth.__

____

“What the fuck, Jasper!” the actress scolds.  
“Shit! Cos, you have to come down stairs, now! I’m so fucked!” Lexa’s still trying to process what happened as Costia’s frustration turned to concern for her friend.  
“Calm down, what’s going on?”  
“Fuck, what do I do? She’s down stairs” he says pacing frantically.  
“Who?”  
“Maya!” This changed the whole evening for the three.  
“Fuck” Costia sighs. “Ok, calm yourself. Deep breaths, we’ll go together” the actress turned on maternal mode to take care of her friend and the Maya situation. She walks him to the door then comes back to Lexa. “I’m so sorry, I have to-”  
“No worries, really, it’s ok” the writer says relieved that the night was over.  
“Thank you, for the evening. I had fun” the blonde says with her signature allure before kissing the brunette.  
“The pleasure was all mine” Lexa responds as she watches the woman walk away. 

She rubs the back of her head still stunned by the events that took place. She goes to the bathroom and splashes cold water on her face. She looks at herself in the mirror and says “Wake the fuck up, Lexa” as she slaps herself. Her gaze turns to a nice selection of painkillers and other prescription drugs. She doesn’t hesitate to take a few bottles before she heads out. 

 

***  
Somehow, she found herself sitting at her desk with a pile of papers scattered and a bottle of whiskey. She had taken a smorgasbord of pills once she was dropped off. She can’t remember who brought her home, all she could think about was Clarke. So, she writes her a letter. 

_Dear Clarke: _  
__

___I need you to know how sorry I am. I have behaved horribly and there is no excuse. I say that I want to be better for you, yet I always fall short. I’m starting to think that maybe, this is my best. This terrifies me but mostly, it makes me sad for you and my people. _____

_____ _

_____ _

_I can’t begin to imagine what I have put you through these past weeks, the humiliation, betrayal and abhorrence you must feel for such an unspeakable act. It’s unforgivable and I don’t expect forgiveness, all I can hope is that when it’s all said and done, you can look me in the eye and still see me. You’ve always been able to do that even after I abandoned you and left you to pick up the pieces all on your own. ___

____

____

_I don’t deserve you. The night is dark now. I feel cold and superfluous. ___

____

____

_I love you ___


	21. Polaris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! :-)  
> Comments and kudos are appreciated!  
> Drama, drama and drama! gasp!

“Abby said to take it easy for a few days” Lincoln tells her setting her things down on the table.  
“Trust me, I plan on doing close to nothing.” The brunette looks at her home, in complete disarray and shrugs. “Who lives like this?” Her rhetorical question brings a smile to her brother’s face.  
“Heda, will you be ok? Alone?” That was a good question, her actions would lead to no.  
“Yeah, I’m a big girl” she jests to ease her brother’s worry.  
“We all felt responsible, you know?”  
“I’m sorry, Linc. I shouldn’t have let it get that far.”  
“You’ve had rough patches before, but this…” he pauses to control his emotions. “…you’ve always hung on for us, at the very least, for your people.” It pained the writer to see Lincoln like this.  
“Come here” she says pulling him into a hug. “I’m sorry, it was an accident. I was hurting, and I needed it to stop.”  
“Permanently?”  
“God, no. I miscalculated, I was pretty fucked up.” Her tone was casual, and this was disconcerting but also a relief to him as everyone had believed that the stunt was her attempt to end her life.  
“But the letter-”  
“I have a flair for the dramatic, you know that” she says matter a factly.  
“Dammit, Heda!”  
“What?”  
“Everyone was really concerned! It’s all over the media that you tried to kill yourself.” And that’s when it clicked for the writer, why everyone was being so nice to her and why Clarke said what she said, if that really even happened.  
“So, um, does Clarke know?” she asks nonchalantly.  
“Of course. She spent the first two nights at your side.” The writer couldn’t help the jolt of triumph bringing life back into her body.  
“So, do you think it’s ok to contact her?”  
“She’s coming by tonight to check on you.” Lexa was floored. “You must of still been out of it when she left this morning.”  
“Yeah, because I would’ve remembered that.” He heads for the door.  
“Raven made you some food. Anything else you need?” He felt better about leaving his sister and his relief kept his annoyance at bay.  
“I’m good, Linc, don’t worry.” Lexa reassures. She was rejuvenated, Clarke was coming to see her that night and all was right in the world. Well, not really, not at all. She’s still considered a statutory rapist, a suicidal one at that, by the public anyways, but at least she had her people, who would follow her to war if they had too. She wasn’t alone, she was never alone.

 

***  
That evening couldn’t come soon enough for the writer. She wanted to clean up but was still feeling too weak to do much of anything. She spends most of the day reading.

The blonde lets herself in with her key and brings in a box of the writer’s things from her house. She sets it down and finds the brunette picking up the papers littering the hardwood floor of her office. She picks up a few as she makes her way, with the writer still unaware due to Miles Davis blaring in the background. Clarke skims through them, surprised to see that they were letters addressed to her. 

“Jesus Christ!” Lexa turns and almost falls back at the sight of her muse. “Clarke, you scared the shit out of me.”  
“Sorry, I let myself in.”  
“No worries. Um, sorry the place is a mess” she drops a handful of papers on her desk and notices that the blonde carrying some as well. “Here, I’ll take that” she says grabbing them from her, a bit flustered.  
“How are you feeling?” she asks not wanting to make a big deal about the letters.  
“Uh, like I got my stomach pumped.” The blonde grins as the writer leads her out to the sitting room to turn down her record player. Clarke sits on the vintage, tufted, leather armchair that she’s missed the past weeks.  
“So, I was hoping we could talk.”  
“Yeah, sure.” This was the moment the writer has been wanting and visualizing, of course they could talk. She sits on her coffee table with her elbows on her knees eager to hear what her muse had to say.

“I was really worried about you, we all were. It made me put things in perspective, you know?” Lexa nods and allows her to continue. “I’ve been sorting out my emotions and really thinking about our situation.”  
“Look, Clarke, I-”  
“Please, let me finish.” The writer gives her full attention. “I was angry that you did it, but I wasn’t able to process my anger because I felt so guilty for not being there for you. I started to blame myself and I don’t think I could have forgiven myself if you had-” her eyes water and her breath hitches. The thought of Lexa offing herself was overwhelming. “Dammit, sorry, I-”  
“It’s not your fault, Clarke. It was a mistake, an irresponsible decision. I’m solely responsible for my actions.”  
“Lex, you tried to kill yourself and I wasn’t there for you.”  
“Well, that’s not entirely true.”  
“What do you mean?” the artist was perplexed by her response as she wipes her tears trying to avoid smearing her mascara.

“I didn’t try to kill myself. I just-”  
“But the letter that they found-” she contests.  
“I write lots of letters as you can see. It’s therapeutic, I guess.”  
“Therapeutic?” the blonde repeats, skeptical.  
“Yeah, it was all a misunderstanding.” The blonde is bewildered and frankly, doesn’t know how to respond. She can’t allow this new information to derail her from the course. She was there for a reason, they needed to talk and that’s what she would do. “Are you ok?” the brunette wasn’t sure how the artist would take the news, but she was done with the lies and withholding information. She’s a reckless, narcissist who makes bad choices when depressed, but Clarke already knew this.

“A bit shocked, but also relieved, if that makes sense.” Lexa nods her head.  
“I’m really sorry, Clarke. I didn’t mean to-”  
“You know what, whatever, I’ll deal with it, like I always do.” Lexa felt the sting. “But, it’s not just that” she says sticking to her plan as she takes the writers hands in hers. “Lex, I can’t be your reason for living.”  
“I didn’t try to kill myself. I’m not suicidal.”  
“Listen to me” she says commanding eye contact and focus with her grip as she looks straight at her. “When we’re together you’re this incredible human, you radiate, and you share that with everyone you come in contact with.”  
“It’s because of you. You’re the light of my life, my north star.”  
“No, Lexa. I can’t be, not anymore.”  
“Why not? You always have been.”  
“And before me?”  
“I was waiting, I’m still waiting. I’ll always wait for you, Clarke” she says reaching to cradle her face in her hands. The artist shakes her head exhausted from the back and forth with the relentless woman who was too close to Seurat’s canvas to see it in its totality. She takes the writer’s wrists and places it on her lap.  
“No, Lex, listen to me. You have to do it for you, this is your life, your creation. I have my own to live.”  
“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, that this time, I need to let you go.” She can’t look at her when she says it because it hurt more than she imagined. “I can’t be responsible for your happiness or wellbeing.” The writer didn’t want to admit that she was right, that she’s known it all along but couldn’t imagine the loss of her muse again. She had to do something, it couldn’t end like this, she hasn’t even apologized for Ontari.  
“What I did, I can’t change, but you have to know that I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry, Clarke. Please, don’t do this.” The writer was distressed, and the desperation was borderline pathetic.  
“Please, Lexa, listen to me. You have so much to live for. I am the least of your worries.”  
“Let’s just go back to how things were before.” The artist sighs and shakes her head no.  
“I see you, all of you, and I’ll always be here for you, but I can’t be…” she hesitates to finish her sentence, “your Penelope.” This stuns the writer and she’s left to contemplate her words as the artist gets up and heads towards the door. Did she really manifest her fictions into reality or vice versa? 

“But we were fine,” it was her last attempt and her tone was defeated “we were happy before all this.” It was true, but it’s never been about love, they’ve always had that. Clarke’s accepted her for her past, this was about the present and their future.  
“I guess, love isn’t enough” the artist offers with complete disillusion. This devastated the writer, the hopeless romantic whose world lays in ruins before her.  
“Clarke” but it’s too late. She knows it and allows the blonde to make her exit. 

 

The artist sobs, her breathing is irregular as she finally lets it all out after years of doubt and uncertainty. She was free, she faced her past, her demons and she is able to leave the island that kept her hostage for too many years. She cries all the way to her car, to her house, to her bath, to her bed. She even cries in her dreams where she’s swallowed by a tidal wave of her tears. Then, the storm clears and she’s floating on a raft and the night sky is illuminated with stellar globes that guide her.

 

***  
Lexa makes it to the wrap party at Dante’s house on the beach. He treated the entire crew to a lovely day on his private beach then opened the night up to other A-list stars that wanted the opportunity to network and others who needed an event to fill the void in their lives. She remained sober and took the time to relax on the beach with her people knowing that her time was limited. The trial was in a few weeks and she had no idea what to expect. She hasn’t been herself lately, laying low and not saying much to anyone about anything. She doesn’t talk about what happened with Clarke even when asked about it, so her people lay off and give her time and space. 

The evening draws on and Lexa remains on the sand as the sky bleeds into the horizon unable to tell where one ends and the other begins. She thinks of her muse and the hours they would spend discussing the nature of reality, the purpose of life. She gets it, she does, and she respects Clarke for her choice, but it doesn’t erase the pain. She’s always been fascinated with the human condition and its complexities. Her thoughts are disrupted by a familiar voice. 

“How are you doing?” Lexa snaps out of her reverie and sees the tall woman with Mediterranean features of a long black flowing mane and olive skin. The writer barely recognized her lawyer in white camisole and grey trousers.  
“Wow” was the darker woman’s initial reaction. “You’re not wearing a suit” she says reestablishing their witty rapport and eliciting a genuine smile from the woman. “And she smiles.”  
“Contrary to your belief, I am human.”  
“A lovely one at that.”  
“Thank you, but you’re avoiding my question.” Lexa grins at the beautiful brain that stood before her. “How are you?”  
“Not bad for a suicidal statutory rapist.”  
“Alleged” she clarifies.  
“Alleged” she corrects herself. “So, in all seriousness, I wanted to thank you, for saving my life.” the lawyer looks towards the woman with her hands in her back pockets. “They told me that you found me.” the lawyer let down her analytic mind and simply felt and accepted the writer’s sincere gratitude with a nod that was understood by her client.  
“Well, you know, I couldn’t let you go out that way.”  
“Right, what would the press think?”  
“That, and I have a case to win.”  
“Of course, I hope you’re right” the brunette says with a weak smile.  
“I also wanted to thank you” she says not wanting to dwell on her uncertain future.  
“Me? for what?”  
“You called me that night for a ride home, that’s how I found you. I dropped my phone in the hall as I helped you stumble onto the couch. I came back for it, and you were…” she hesitates, and Lexa gets the idea.  
“You saved my life, I owe you my first-born child.” That time the lawyer chuckles “Be still my heart, she laughs too” Becca shoves her shoulder still giggling and was surprised at how toned it was.  
“I just, I appreciated that you trusted me enough to call. It means a lot to me.”  
“No doubt, counselor. I trust you with my life, literally.”  
“I guess, there’s hope for us after all.”  
“I certainly hope so.”  
“I’ll catch you inside” the lawyer says to end their most friendly, unprofessional interaction to date. Lexa smiles and shakes her head wondering if she had some Irish in her, she’s certainly had their luck.

 

***  
The night drags on and Lexa finds herself surprisingly touched by the gathering. It was almost midnight and she was ready to go. She had genuine interactions with those that worked on the film and most people seemed to feel some amount of gratitude and respect for the writer regardless of everything. They could have been drinking Dante’s Pro-Lexa=Kool-Aid, or were simply thankful to have the work, either way, the writer was pleased and humbled. She remained sober all night and managed her interaction with Costia pretty well considering their last encounter. The actress was working that night even though it was a party, she maintained a professional distance and was very careful and Lexa was thrilled to not have to deal with that fiasco. 

She finally says her farewells after a private talk with Dante on her potential. He encouraged her and guaranteed that she would be fine. He seemed to care for the writer as a father would for his daughter, seeing something special in the writer. He made sure that she was made aware of the importance of her writing in the world. They weren’t just words, he meant it for she had a way of representing the human condition at its most honest, tragic and lighthearted way. The contradictory nature of humans was an impasse that Hollywood circumvented with simplistic plots, beautiful actors and impressive action sequences. She won’t forget what he tells her: “This is your gift and responsibility.” Is this what Titus and Clarke meant in their own way? Why is she the only one to consider Clarke as valid of a purpose as writing? Maybe, she’s never believed them and that it was simply something to do for her, maybe that’s what they mean. 

She finds herself smoking a cigarette on the beach not too far from the house after she made her exit. She enjoyed the sound of the ocean the smell of the sea carried by the strong winds. She contemplates Dante’s, Clarke’s and Titus’s words as she stands looking at the north star for some sort of direction. Suddenly, she hears a someone crying. She looks to the rocks and a figure of a woman leaning against it weeping. She throws her cigarette but down and makes her way over propelled by her intuition. With every step her mind puts the puzzle together until the image was clear, it was Ontari. She doesn’t know why, but something told her that this was necessary and not incidental. This outweighed the side of her that knew it was a bad idea to have contact with the opposing party, so she sighs and continues to approach the girl. Anya and Becca would surely lose their shit.

“Ontari?”  
“What are you doing here?” the girl responds trying to regain composure.  
“It’s kind of my party.”  
“Shouldn’t you be in a hospital or psyche ward?”  
“One would think” she's cautious on how to approach the vulnerable girl, different from the spiteful woman she faced in their last encounter. “What brings you here? I can’t imagine Cage dragged you to this.”  
“Fuck Cage!” The writer wasn’t expecting that, so she remains silent as she leans on the same boulder waiting for the girl to speak her mind. “Who knows where he is. Somewhere in Europe or Mexico that prick!”  
“Wanna tell me what’s going on? I mean it can’t be as bad as my problems” Ontari raises her eyebrows and agrees.  
“He left me” Lexa wasn’t surprised knowing the asshole, but she thought he’d at least see the scandal through. The younger girl becomes undone. “I’m so sorry, Heda. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I-” Next thing Lexa knows she’s holding the young girl in her arms offering security and comfort letting her know she wasn’t alone. “I don’t know how I let it all get away from me. He promised me everything and then my mother-” She could barely link a chain of thoughts together with all of her sobbing. “They told me it was the only way.”  
“Hey, it’s ok, life’s not fair and sometimes, it's hard.” Lexa has always felt for the girl for an inexplicable reason.  
“I don’t even want any of this! I just want to be a normal teenager, you know?” Lexa’s heart broke for the almond eyed girl.  
“I don’t blame you, kid. I’m sorry too.”  
“No, you didn’t do anything.” There’s a pause. At first, Lexa wasn’t sure how to interpret it but then found the courage to ask.  
“What do you mean?” Ontari stands in front of her dripping with guilt and sorrow as she prepared to reveal the truth to the only one who would hear her voice.  
“We didn’t have sex. You blacked out and nothing happened.” Lexa couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her memory is still compromised with images of kissing the girl before finding herself looking at a ceiling in a bedroom. The next thing she remembers is waking to a naked Ontari with only her boy shorts on. “Heda, did you hear me?” She doesn’t answer still trying to remember.  
“But, the next day you said-”  
“I said it was the best sex of my life.”  
“Why?”  
“I wanted you to remember me…. I wanted to feel…” the auburn-haired girl’s lower lip quivered as she looks away in shame. “special.” As angry as Lexa was, this was not the time or place. This girl was so fragile and in pain that she all she could do was stand up and embrace her, protect her from herself and all of the systemic and symbolic violence inscribed in her psyche by her mother and others imposing their power. The young girl bawls in the writer’s chest tears on her leather jacket.  
“Sssshhh it’s ok, I’ve got you” Lexa assures her with a tight squeeze.  
“I’m so sorry, Heda.”

That night, Lexa drives the girl to her place since she had nowhere to go. Cage abandoned her and broke off the deal unable to handle the bad publicity and disapproval from his father. Her mother threatened the girl when she told her she was done with the charades. Nevertheless, Lexa’s good intentions come with consequences that she risks. She set’s Ontari up in her second bedroom and she tries her best to sleep off the night, for tomorrow was new a day.


	22. Past

Lexa wakes up naturally with the sun creeping into her room. She almost forgets that Ontari was in her spare bedroom as she was ready to step out topless as she often does. She grabs a shirt and walks to the kitchen to make coffee, she has enjoyed waking up sober the past few days and continues with her new routine of grabbing the daily paper. Half-awake, she opens the door and is assaulted by a series of flashes from cameras, phones and reporters with mics. She was in shock and within seconds grasps what was happening and slams the door, quickly locking it. 

“What the fuck!” she yells waking Ontari first with the slamming of the door then with her blasphemy. The girl walks out wearing one of Lexas long t-shirts.  
“What’s going on?”  
“Whatever you do, don’t open the door or any of the windows the writer explains as she frantically shuts all of the curtains facing the front and sides of the house.  
“What? Why?” she asks looking out of one of the windows then immediately shutting them and jumping back. “Shit! How did this happen?” The girl starts to panic and ramble. “No one knew I was at the party last night. I didn’t tell Cage, my mother or anyone.” She forgot that Lexa has been the target of the media more than she has been for the past couple of months, especially with the suicide attempt and the new project with Jasper Jordan. Wherever she went, they followed. She recalls Costia warning her of the press keeping a close eye on the two of them after leaked rumors of their anti-climatic evening.  
“They’re pretty fucking relentless. I should’ve been more careful.” She realizes that taking Ontari home on her bike was not the best decision.  
“What do we do?”  
“Don’t leave the house, don’t call anyone from your crew.” Ontari was actually listening and taking the situation very seriously. “My lawyer will be here, just wait patiently” the girl nods her head in agreement as Lexa looks down towards her legs. “And get some pants on.” Ontari rolls her eyes.  
“What are you going to do?”  
“I’m going to fix this.” 

 

***  
After an hour on social media and reading the headlines, Ontari had enough, Becca still hasn’t arrived, and she needed someone to listen to and comfort her. So, she contacts the only person who’d ever done those things for her, Clarke. The blonde was shocked reading her long elaborate text about the truth with Lexa and the current situation she’s in and immediately calls her after her morning class.

 _“Clarke, I didn’t think you would-” ___  
_“Ontari, where are you?”_  
_“At Heda’s.”_  
_“Ok, I’m on my way. I’ll come through the back.” ___  
_“Ok” _the girl was immediately relieved and became bit emotional. _“And Clarke...” _____  
_“Yeah, babe?”_  
_“Thanks.”_  
_“See you soon.”_

____

_____ _

_____ _

Clarke cancels the rest of her day and drives straight to Lexa’s. She starts to get calls from Raven and Octavia regarding the current situation and decides to ignore them wanting to organize her thoughts and feelings regarding the girl. She was touched that the she had reached out to her but more importantly she was relieved to know the truth. She had a lot to process on her drive. 

Clarke arrives knocking on the back door as she had anticipated. Ontari lets her in and immediately hugs her friend finding a sense of security and comfort in the older woman’s arms. The blonde returns the embrace to show her that she had forgiven her, that she would always be there for her. 

“Are you ok?” Ontari nods into her chest as both tear up a bit.  
“I’m so sorry” the younger girl mumbles.  
“Me too, babe. It’s ok, we’re ok” Clarke reassures. The blonde then notices that they had an audience, looking on from the sitting room was Lexa’s very attractive lawyer in a pencil skirt and white blouse. She captured the perfect combination of intelligent and sexy that bothered the artist no matter how hard she fought it. 

“You must be Clarke.”  
“And you are?” Ontari breaks away to introduce the women.  
“Clarke, this is Becca, Heda’s lawyer.” Clarke’s mind immediately goes to the gutter, but her logic shakes herself out of it. She and Lexa were over in the romantic sense and this saint saved Lexa’s life and was keeping her out of prison. _Get it together Griffin. ___  
“Oh, I wasn’t expecting you.”  
“It’s nice to finally meet you” Becca says offering her hand. “Lexa talks about you all the time.”  
“Likewise- I mean to meet you… not that Lexa talks about you- that is- to me…. or that I talk to Lexa all that much… these days.” The artist’s awkwardness was evident to everyone in the room. _Smooth, Griffin. _“So… where is she?” Becca clears her throat and looks to Ontari.__

____

____

 

***  
Lexa didn’t have much of a plan when she called Anya’s assistant to pick her up a block away from her house. She couldn’t send Ontari back to her mother and she certainly couldn’t stay with her. That’s how she found herself standing next to Murphy as they wait for Roan to answer the door. He was less than happy to see the writer as he opens the door while reading a headline on his phone with a picture of Lexa helping Ontari into her house last night then looks up to see the face he’s been meaning to acquaint with his fist since he first found out about the scandal. Lexa greets him with a big smile and his instincts take over as he violently reaches for her neck.

“You fucking asshole!” he cries lunging at her. Luckily, Murphy intercepts the attack as Lexa strategically keeps her friend in between her and the rabid beast with his savage mane and facial hair framing his face.  
“Shit!” Murphy shouts after he sacrifices his body for Lexa, immediately regretting the decision.  
“Roan, calm down. I’m here to talk” she says trying to reason with him as she stays on her toes ready to avoid another attack as they play their game of cat and dog. “Just hear me out.”  
“You fucked my sister and you stole my girlfriend! You don’t get to talk!” He barks finally pushing Murphy aside before tackling the writer.  
“Shit!” the writer mumbles as she hits the ground. They struggle and wrestle on the grass like children for a moment until the assistant pulls the beast off of the writer.  
“Get off me!” he hisses as he catches his breath. Lexa takes her time getting up.  
“I don’t get paid enough for this bull shit” Murphy says walking to the writer to help her up. “Are you ok, Heda?”  
“Whose idea was this?” she asks licking her bloody lip and holding onto her ribcage.  
“Yours. Now what?”  
“Stick to the plan” he had absolutely no idea what it was, but he would do as told. “I didn’t sleep with her.” Lexa insists. Roan initially didn’t believe her but found it strange that she would come to him under the circumstance, so he plays along.  
“Then why did she file that lawsuit against you?”  
“It’s your mother and Cage Wallace.”  
“They can’t just accuse you without grounds.”  
“Look, hombre, your sister is at my house, just come with us and let her explain it to you.” Roan was skeptical but also found the whole situation to be absurd. None of it was adding up but he did know form social media that Ontari was indeed at the writer’s house. “She needs you.”  
“If this is one of your games, I swear to God-”  
“I swear on my love for Clarke, I’m not fucking with you.” That was enough for Roan who finally complied with the woman who still appeared to be in pain. Murphy was happy to finally get the two in the car but there was no end to the childish behavior.

 

***  
“Christ, I think you cracked my ribs?”  
“That was the idea, asshole.”  
“Real nice way to treat a lady.”  
“We both know, you’re anything but.”  
“Whatever happened to the easygoing guy I used to play videogames with?”  
“You ruined his life.”  
“I thought _I _was dramatic” he groans with frustration at the woman who just couldn’t keep her mouth shut.  
“So, anyone want to catch me up?” Murphy asks innocently.__

____

Murphy leads the way as they sneak through the back alley towards Lexa’s house. Hiding behind trash bins at any sound they heard or any cars that drove by. 

“So, let me get this straight, Ontari stopped talking to you after she found out that you cheated on Clarke?”  
“Yup.”  
“But she also cut Clarke off when she found out about her and Heda?”  
“Yup.”  
“Regardless of your attempts to reconnect since the scandal, she’s ignored you and your mother warned you to stay out it?”  
“Yeah.”  
“So, really, Heda is doing you a favor by bringing you two together?” he hesitates to respond.  
“You’re delusional if you think Lexa Woods cares about anyone but herself.”  
“Ouch, man. That really hurts. You know what else really hurts? My fractured ribs.” she says with a gradation in her voice as the trio arrive at the back gate of Lexa’s house. “You think I do this for fun?” she continues in her defense of Roan’s hurtful words. “For once I’d like to have an interaction with someone of the male species that doesn’t end with me getting my ass kicked. Gotta say, it’s been a while.” 

 

“Roan” Ontari says running straight into his arms. He doesn’t hesitate to embrace his sister, and in that moment, all seemed to be forgiven. Lexa was pleased that the physical and verbal abuse wasn’t for nothing. She then turns her attention to her muse and lawyer who immediately notice her cut lip.  
“Your lip” Clarke observes from the other side of the room. The writer is beyond surprised to see her.  
“What happened?” Becca asks getting to the brunette first as she was closer to the door. “Here sit down, let me look at that” Lexa was comforted by the lawyer’s concern.  
“Here” the blonde says bringing over a wet cloth and some ice. She proceeds to take care of the writer as she always has. Becca gets a call and slightly touches Lexa’s arm before taking it in the other room and Clarke notices the dynamic between the two.

“Um thanks” Lexa says admiring the artist’s gentle touch. She takes in her scent of which she will never tire. Clarke takes note and snaps out of her instinctual reaction to the writer. She realizes that her behavior is contradictory to her words and provoked by the new element of seeing Becca with her Ex.  
“No problem” she says as she takes a step back allowing the writer to handle it herself.  
“I wasn’t expecting to see you.”  
“Ontari called me” it was enough to convey to the brunette that she knew the truth. Before Lexa could respond they’re joined by the Winter siblings. 

“Hi, Clarke” Roan says with throaty tone.  
“Hey, Roan. How are you?”  
“I’m alright. You?”  
“I’m swell thanks for asking.” Lexa interrupts. “Now that we’re all together, can please just address the elephant in the room. We’re being rude” she says as they all awkwardly stand around in silence, fortunately Becca returns with news.  
“I spoke to your mother’s lawyers and they want to meet with Ontari before we negotiate a deal.”  
“What deal? They have no case” Ontari says.  
“They claim that you’re being corrupted and brainwashed by the accused. We’re meeting with your mother and her lawyers at my office at 4pm.” Becca grabs her suitcase as she talks. “Then we can finally put an end to this circus” she puts her hand on Lexa’s shoulder. “Don’t talk to anyone from the press, leave that to me.”  
“Where are you going, counselor?” the writer asks standing up to follow her.  
“I have another meeting. Clarke, Ontari, it was nice to meet you both.” she waves at Murphy in the kitchen then turns to Roan. “And…”  
“Roan.”  
“Right. A pleasure” she says shaking his hand. Clarke watches the writer and lawyer interact closely.  
“So, did I do good?” Lexa asks maintaining her playful disposition.  
“You did. You’re one lucky lady.”  
“You have no idea. So, you think you’ll be able to make this go away.”  
“I’m confident. We’re almost there, Lex.” Becca touches her chin to get a closer look at her bruise. It takes all of Clarke’s will power to not react to hearing her say ‘Lex’ and seeing her touch Lexa’s face. “Does it hurt?”  
“You should see the other guy.”  
“I did, not a scratch on him” she winks eliciting a smile from the writer. “Call if you need anything. See you this afternoon” and with that she takes a deep breath before walking out into the horde of reporters that remained. 

 

“Are you two…?” Roan starts “Is it just me or is there something going on with…?”  
“Sorry to disappoint but our relationship is strictly professional” Lexa says ending it before it started.  
“I think she’s great” Clarke chimes in to counter the side of her that grew green with envy. “She’s going to get you out of this” she says offering a smile.  
“Yeah, I hope so.”  
“Clarke, will you come with me today?” The blonde looks to Roan not wanting to over step boundaries with her Ex.  
“She needs all the support as she can get” he says. “My mother is an expert in manipulating and alienating her children. It would be good for all of us to go.”  
“Yeah, of course, I’ll go” she says pulling Ontari in for a hug.  
“So, we’re all good here?” the writer asks. “Can we leave the past where it belongs?”  
“Please, let’s.” Ontari pleads. Lexa walks to Roan.  
“I’m sorry, man. I should’ve been a better friend.” He hugs her.  
“We all could have been better. Sorry about today.”  
“I deserved it. I’ll heal, I always do.” Murphy finishes the sandwich he was eating in the kitchen and joins them of a group hug. Above it all, the artist and the writer look at each other with a grin of understanding and acceptance for the choices made. Dare we say, even gratitude.

 

***  
There they were in the conference room with Lexa and her crew on one side of the table and Nia and her suits on the other. Becca lead the assault to which the suits had no answer. They attempted to use Ontari once more as the victim manipulated by the writer, but she stood her ground against her mother with Clarke and Roan by her side. Nia’s desperation turned to anger and outbursts towards Lexa and her children calling them traitors, threatening them and pretty much disowning both. The men in suits settle her down and that’s when the deal was struck. All charges were dropped against the writer and Becca agreed not to press defamation charges against Nia. Case closed, the writer was indeed favored by the Gods on this day.

Security escorts Nia and her suits out while the crew rejoiced in laughter and tears. It was unreal to the writer, things moved in slow motion, all she could hear was a low vibrating siren as she surveys the room of her people who had her back until the end. She’s brought back to reality when Anya hugs her. 

“It’s over. You did it.” The agent holds on tighter than usual. “Let’s celebrate. Whatever you want, Heda. It’s your night.” She’s still speechless as she looks at Clarke and they exchange gazes. The blonde takes a deep breath her eyes watery and she offers Lexa a kiss with both hands of unconditional love and support then puts them on her chest and mouths ‘I love you’. The writer doesn’t hesitate to mouth it back. There was no question of what the writer wanted, what she fears she’ll always want. At that moment she would settle for her people sharing food and drink.


	23. Overlap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for staying with me and taking the time to read!  
> I'm in this for the long haul and I appreciate the company!
> 
> We are heading for a Clexa ending but it will take time.  
> I'll be sure to give heads up for non Clexa moments. 
> 
> Brief Lexa Beca moment, very brief.

Weeks pass and the attention of the masses moves on and so, the writer and her people were given their privacy and lives back. The circus was over, and Lexa managed to jump through the hoops and smile at the end as she promised her lawyer, who finally accepted her client’s dinner proposal. 

“I can’t believe I told you that.”  
“What? That you wrote a novel once upon a time?”  
“Nobody knows that.”  
“No shame, counselor. That’s no easy task.”  
“What is it about you that makes me want to tell you… stuff” the writer offers a cocky smirk. “…things I’ve never shared with anyone that I haven’t even thought about for god knows how long.”  
“My nonjudgmental aura, people feel safe around me.”  
“I wouldn’t go that far. My ‘stay far away’ radar goes off in your general vicinity.”  
“Oh, is that what that was earlier” the writer jokes touching her ear with a grimace. “Actually, you’re not the only one to say that” the writer recalls Clarke saying something similar and Becca knew exactly where her mind went at that moment.  
“I think I get it. The whole ambivalence you’ve got going on.”  
“Please, enlighten me.”  
“We’re a lot alike you and I.”  
“We’ve both written a novel” the lawyer grins not at all referring to that commonality.  
“We’re intense individuals. We fall on the extreme sides of the spectrum.”  
“Is that so?”  
“Well, I am disciplined, analytic, serious and controlling to an extreme whereas, you are my complete foil. You’re reckless, nonjudgmental, easygoing and playful.”  
“So, we’re the same in that we’re different.”  
“Yes, but also there are areas where we overlap. For example, we’re both highly intelligent, borderline obsessive, unapologetic and are guided by a high moral code.”  
“Well, that’s the first I’ve heard anyone associate moral code with yours truly.”  
“It’s true though, those closest to you recognize it.”  
“Perhaps. So, what you’re saying is that you’re just as attracted to me as I am to you?” The lawyer can’t contain her guffaw and almost spits out her wine that she was sipping.  
“You are incorrigible.”  
“And adorable.” 

“Honestly, yes. I can see myself falling deeply in love with you, Lexa.”  
“And _I _can see myself getting lost that labyrinth of a mind of yours” she smiles and takes the lawyer’s hand. “Why do you continue to resist, Becca?”__  
“You know why.”  
“I don’t think I do.”  
“I would just be another island on your Odyssey, Calypso’s perhaps. You would thrive with my security and I would bask in your romantic nonsense. We’d be in love and happy for some time, years even.”  
“But?”  
“But, we both know your heart belongs to Ithaca.” Lexa was speechless by the lawyer’s insight and had no rebuttal. The lawyer knows she was right as she’s seldom wrong. “And that is why I resist.”  
“I imagine people with your intellectual prowess to be lonely.”  
“I have my moments, but I have my passion.”  
“You’re work?”  
“My career, the process, the interactions.”  
“And what of your biological needs?”  
“There are Apps for that” this time it’s the writer who can’t hold back a laugh.  
“You’re right, counselor. We _are _very similar. Do you think we’ll be ok?”__  
“As demanding as we are, we’re also quite patient when it comes to matters of the heart. Knowing this, I think we’ll be fine.”  
“I hope you’re right.”  
“I usually am” and with that the lawyer stands for her departure. “Thank you for dinner.”  
“Thank you for everything” Becca leans in, their lips touch lightly and for a moment, they overlap. There was nothing else to be said. She smiles and walks away without looking back. 

_____ _

_Ithaca, _the writer contemplates her lawyer’s words of wisdom. She’d spent most her adult life adrift then she found Clarke, who gave her direction and purpose, but she lost her voice and she was convinced that she couldn’t have it all, at least not at that time. Now here she was once more. After her brief affair with the past, she was ready to start again, still uncertain of where to find Ithaca.__

____

 

***  
“You’re quiet today” Anya says looking in her rear view mirror at the writer who was entertaining Tris in the back seat.  
“She’s excited to see Andre and Clarke” Raven says. She was right, it’s been months since she talked to the kid and weeks since she last saw the artist. Lexa was so grateful to be invited to Clarke’s for Andre’s graduation party and wasn’t sure how he would react.  
“They’ll be thrilled to see you.”  
“I hope you’re right. I’ve been so busy babysitting Jasper that I haven’t had time to see Andre.”  
“Relax, he’s got a lot going on too.” This encouraged the writer but there was something else, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Perhaps it was her pending hiatus. She hasn’t told anyone that she was leaving after her Showtime gig. The summer sea of asphalt was calling. 

Andre notices the writer immediately and doesn’t hesitate to greet his mentor. Lexa was shocked at his reaction but mostly relieved and grateful. He bypasses their hand shake and goes in for a big hug bringing a smile to the brunette’s face. Clarke who was chatting with his mom and Wells, witnesses the scene and her heart is full. 

“Hey, kid” the writer says trying to stay composed.  
“Heda. Where have you been?”  
“Oh, you know, around.”  
“Thanks for coming.”  
“I wouldn’t miss this for anything.” Just as Clarke was going to make her way over, the writer pulls Andre away and they walk outside. “You look good, you’re so grown up.”  
“Well, you know the college girls dig it” he says as he adjusts his collar.  
“Is that so” she says fussing with his hair know both finding comfort in their old routine.  
“So, how are you?” the adolescent seemed to have aged well beyond his years with the tone of the question.  
“I’m good.”  
“You writing?”  
“A bit.”  
“Good.” The two sit on the porch.  
“Hey, I wanted to apologize for everything.”  
“It’s cool.”  
“It’s not. I probably put you through some humiliating situations and distracted you from school and I’m really sorry. I never wanted any of that for you.”  
“I didn’t believe any of it. No one thinks for themselves anymore. I think for myself, you taught me that.” The writer can’t help but smile at his remark.  
“You’re the only one, kid.”  
“You didn’t believe them, right?”  
“Sadly, I did. I stopped thinking for myself because…” she didn’t know how to tell him that behind her confident and cool exterior was a woman who didn’t think much of herself. A woman who was lost, so she turns to others for an identity. “It’s easy to get caught up in all that.”  
“Yeah, but it’s all good now.”  
“Look, Andre, I’m not a great role model.”  
“I know that.”  
“You do?”  
“Yeah, you drink too much and get in fights... a lot” the writer was stunned by his nonchalant frankness. “But you believe in me and you care. Look how far that got me” and that pushes the writer over the edge. She lets her guard down and pulls him in for a hug as she starts to let the tears flow.  
“Come here. When did you become so wise huh?” she asks not crushing him in her embrace.  
“I’ve been reading the book list you assigned me.” The writer snickers as their moment is interrupted by Clarke. 

“Hey, Andre, your mom’s looking for you.” Lexa lets him go.  
“Ok. I’ll see you inside?” he asks the writer who nods. 

“How did it go?” the blonde asks noticing her sad eyes.  
“Better than expected. He’s a good kid. Thanks for helping him while I was-”  
“I was glad to do it” she cuts her off for there was no need to go there.  
“So, he got into your University.”  
“He did, they were very impressed.”  
“As they should be.”  
“I’ve really enjoyed my time with him and the other kids at Gustus’s this past year.”  
“You’re a natural, Clarke.”  
“It’s got me thinking about something really important that for a long time I didn’t believe to be possible.” The writer had an idea of where she was going but didn’t want to assume.  
“Do you remember when we used to talk about it?”  
“How could I forget. Do you still see them?”  
“Yes, more and more. And I think that now, I’m ready.” This was news to the writer, she hasn’t spoken of them since New York. At first the writer was genuinely excited for her but then saddened with the thought her sharing the miracle with someone other than her.  
“That’s great, Clarke” she says burying her disappointment with enthusiasm. 

“Sorry. Clarke, Rae needs you in the kitchen” he says with a smile then looks to Lexa to be introduced properly.  
“Right, um, this is-”  
“Lexa” she shakes his hand.  
“Wells Jaha, nice to meet you.”  
“Same.”  
“Ok, be there in a minute.” Clarke reassures as Wells leaves them.

“So, he’s-”  
“Just a friend.” Clarke knew where her mind as going.  
“Right, nice looking fellow.”  
“He’s a great guy, I’ve known him since high school” Lexa nods with approval. “Anyway, I don’t know why, but, I wanted to tell you.”  
“Oh, right. Yeah, thank you for sharing with me. I’m so happy for you.”  
“I’ve been really busy with the exhibit and you with your show, and I didn’t know when I would see you next so, why not tonight.”  
“So, what’s the next step?” she was trying to be gentle with the situation, showing interest even though it pains her to not be a part of it.  
“Well, this summer I’ll start the classes and get more information on the process.”  
“Uh huh, and will you do it anonymously or do you have someone in mind.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
“You know…” the artist had no idea what she was insinuating. “…the donor.” Clarke then puts it all together with an endearing smile.  
“Lex, I’m adopting.” She’s delighted by the news but still unsure of how to react except to be supportive.  
“Right, of course, wow, that’s… great!”  
“Ok, I better get in there. See you around.”

 

***  
8ish years ago

 _“Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll ever settle.” The blonde was snuggled close to the writer on their love seat naked keeping warm in each other’s arms wrapped in a velvety plush throw after wandering damp streets of the city on a harsh autumn night. ___  
_“I know the feeling” the writer responds holding her close._  
_“Where do these ideas come from. I’ve never entertained the possibility before.”_  
_“But now?”_  
_“I see them.”_  
_“Them?”_  
_“Of course. I wouldn’t wish being a single child on anyone.”_  
_“Well then of course it’ll happen.”_  
_“It seems that my lifestyle isn’t ideal for child rearing.”_  
_“Are you kidding, they would be so lucky to travel the world with their artist mom.”_  
_“It scares me. What if my choices don’t lead me to them?”_  
_“The thing about choices is that you make them.”_  
_“I seem to always make the non-committal ones.”_  
_“You’re committed to art, freedom… to me.”_  
_“You keep me grounded.”_

_____ _

____

_“And before me?” ___  
_“Well, there was Finn and lots of understudies before him.”_  
_“What of the young lad?” She asks in her best Irish accent lightening the mood of what could have be a very heavy conversation._  
_“I got that itch, you know, the impulse to go. So, I left.”_  
_“He must’ve lacked something you needed.”_  
_“He was perfect. I just didn’t want perfect.”_  
_“Yes, I see” the writer changes to her Freudian act. “How was your relationship with your father?” the blonde nudges her playfully._  
_“I know I’ve got my daddy issues just like the rest.”_  
_“Word, you know what the good news is? We get to choose how to deal.”_  
_“Really, that’s the good news?” the writer shrugs in accordance. “I guess I choose not to commit.”_  
_“I can understand that.”_  
_“It seems to go against what I ultimately want.”_  
_“My uncle told me that I make my choices because I don’t believe that I deserve happiness. You know, like the lasting kind.”_  
_“Do you think he’s right?”_  
_“Maybe, probably… Yes.”_

_____ _

____

_“I think, mine is fear of failure. I don’t like to disappoint others, so I push them away when my body tells me it’s time to go.” ___  
_“You could never disappoint me, Clarke.”_  
_“I guess that’s why I’ve kept you close.”_  
_“And why you tell me your deepest darkest desire... to be a mother.”_  
_“I don’t know what it is about you. You’re so relaxed about everything.”_  
_“You caught me at a good time, the Islands are magical.”_  
_“We live in NY that’s as hostile as it comes” the blonde quips. “Like, why doesn’t this talk freak you out?”_  
_“I think you’re freaking enough for both of us.”_

____

____

_“It doesn’t scare you?” ___  
_“I have my fears, but raising children with you, is not one of them.”_  
_“Tell me one.” The brunette is hesitant, vulnerability was not her strong suit._  
_“I don’t really do that.”_  
_“Please” the writer never stood a chance against those eyes, that voice, “try” those lips that graze her earlobe and down the nape of her neck “you can trust me.”_  
_“You’ll realize one day that I’m not who you thought I was…” the writer pauses to take a breath as the blonde nibbles at her jaw “…and hit the ground running.”_  
_“Look at me.” Clarke takes her face in her hands. “I see you, all of you, and I’m not going anywhere.”_  
_“How did we ever get here?” green eyes fixated on blue._  
_“I don’t care I’m just glad we made it. Now, make me come.”_


	24. Clarke

6ish years ago

_“How are you doing today, Clarke?” the psychiatrist asked her patient. The artist had been seeing her twice a week for the past month. It took nearly a year and Bellamy moving in with her, to force her to do what she needed to heal from the trauma of Lexa leaving her. She was in denial for the first couple of weeks, still in shock, never having really talked about what had happened. This week was different, there was a fire ignited in the blonde and she was ready to explode, to unleash her fury for the first time to a witness._

____

_“I don’t feel right.” ___  
_“How so?”_  
_“I don’t know, I’m… beside myself” Dr. Post takes note of her exact words._  
_“Did something happen today?”_  
_“Nothing happened, nothing ever happens” The psychologist sees that she would have to patiently draw it out of her._  
_“Last time, you had rationalized why Lexa left you. You seemed to understand the situation.” She knew that her patient was in denial, not having allowed reality to sink in yet, but today was different. She was ready to feel, and Nylah would guide her through._

_____ _

_“I don’t understand shit!” There it was. “We were happy! She told me, she showed me that she loved me and I believed her! That fucking asshole!” The doctor didn’t dare interrupt. “I gave her everything, I shared parts of myself that no one else knows exists. FUCK! We talked about a future for fuck sake!” It devastated her to know that Lexa had taken them away from her. That she lost them when Lexa abandoned her. “I don’t do that! She acts like she’s so mysterious and difficult to figure out when she’s not! She’s not complicated, I’m the same fucking way! I don’t trust easily, I don’t let my guard down and I don’t do vulnerable or commitment. You’re not fucking special just because you’re a fucking writer! You’re just a fucking coward! And I hate you! I hate that you turned me into this and that you fucking left!” Tears start to flow, and breath is compromised. “You couldn’t even tell me to my face… you selfish, narcissist… cunt!”_

_The blonde runs out of air and takes a moment to release her stress and anger from her core through her pores and lacrimal glands._

_“I’m sorry” the artist sobs “this is ridiculous, I’m so pathetic.” Nylah gets up and hands her some tissues and rubs her back to help calm her as they sit on her couch._  
_“It’s ok, Clarke. It’s not ridiculous and you’re not pathetic. You’re human and you’re in pain and it’s ok.” It’s difficult for her to regulate her breathing while sobbing. “This is an important step for you. Recognizing that you’re not ok is essential in order to heal.”_  
_“I’m so not ok.”_  
_“Good, now tell me why.”_

__

____

_Clarke spends the next few weeks unpacking her baggage and is able to identify the main reason for her anger. It was the ultimate betrayal to her. She trusted Lexa, she became vulnerable for the first time and the writer deceived her with her words and actions. She was made a fool by the person she trusted most. Everything ended for Clarke, completely disillusioned she couldn’t trust anyone, she stopped believing in her future or happy ending, she was broken, she allowed the writer to break her. Love was weakness and it would take years for the artist to try again. Her hopes and dreams of being a mother were put on hold indefinitely, she even believed it no longer existed. She would have to be whole, to love herself once more before she could even entertain the idea of sharing herself with another._

 

***  


6ish years later  


“Lexa fucking Woods!”  
“Jasper fucking Jordan” she responds with a little less enthusiasm.  
“So, you’re out of here huh?”  
“Yeah, I need some time alone.”  
“I wish I could go with you.”  
“Alone, Jasper, kind of the operative word there.” The actor ignores his friend’s warning.  
“Yeah, well, things are going well with Maya. I don’t want to fuck it up again you know.”  
“I do. If you take anything away from our time together, I hope it’s that.”  
“What? Oh, you mean your love lesson form the other night?”  
“Exactly. Hold on to the love man, let it take over you, you’ll never experience anything even close to it.”  
“I’m trying. It’s fucking hard.”  
“Only if you resist. Let go, man, and just be happy. Life’s too short.”  
“What about you?”  
“I fucked it up, I don’t know how many more chances I’ll get.”  
“I read the final script. I sense a glimmer of hope.”  
“That’s fiction for you.”  
“Perhaps.”  
“Take care, Jasper.”  
“See you around.”

The writer and actor actually developed a pseudo-friendship as he was very dedicated to the project and embodying Lexa’s character. He got to know her deepest, darkest insecurities and fears and he willingly divulged his personal problems. It was easy to talk to the writer, there was never one ounce of judgment. We’re all human and we make choices to get through it all, and sometimes it’s nice to have someone validate the simple fact that it’s not always easy, it’s nice to feel like we’re not alone. 

 

***  
Lexa arrived early but kept to herself while the University introduced their visiting artist and her exhibit for the first time for the public. Her people were there for her they had quite the crowd in attendance allowing the writer to almost completely go unnoticed in the distance. The presenter talks about the artist’s accomplishments and her commitment to the community, and the extension of her tenure at the University. This is followed by another speaker who explains the idea behind her exhibit to the audience. 

It was a series of mixed media mosaics titled Broken. Whole objects, people and abstract ideas consisting of shattered imperfect pieces. This was the artist’s interpretation of the human condition from a metaphysical perspective in that we’re all broken and whole simultaneously. Composed of tiny dancing strings of energy at the quantum level, and decisions, emotions, information, connections, experiences at a human level, constituting the totality of each individual life. It’s ok to be broken, it’s in our nature, but we never stop being whole, part of something beyond ourselves, the infinite tapestry of reality. The writer was in awe. 

Abby saw the writer in her usual black attire completely mesmerized by what her daughter had accomplished. The doctor still sees the love that the writer harbors for the artist that’s always warmed her heart knowing that her daughter has experienced a very rare, magical phenomenon. She heads in her direction.

“If it isn’t the elusive Lexa Woods” the doctor takes the writer by complete surprise.  
“Abby, hi” she says hugging the older woman, both genuinely happy to see the other.  
“Good to see you, Lex, it’s been too long.”  
“You too.” They break as the crowd applauds the speakers and Clarke. “Your daughter is pretty special.”  
“I can’t take any credit, that’s all her.” They share a laugh as the crowd disperses to explore the gallery.  
“Hey, I haven’t found the time to tell you in person.”  
“Tell me what?”  
“Thank you.” The doctor figured Raven must of let it slip. “I should be able to pay you back with interest once Showtime pays.” The writer had racked up major debt for bail and Becca’s services but had some big payoffs coming up.  
“I know you’re good for it. I was happy to help.”  
“I really appreciate it, so, so grateful.” Abby smiles at the writer’s graciousness.  
“So, what’s next for you?”  
“I’m not sure, I think I need some time alone.” The doctor wasn’t surprised and agreed with the writer after the year she’s had.  
“Could there be a novel in the works?”  
“Anything’s possible. Speaking of which, could you-” she starts pulling out a letter to hand to the doctor who immediately stops her, taking her hand and putting it back in her pocket. She didn’t have to say anything.  
“Take care, Lexa. Don’t be gone for too long, your people need you.” Abby hugs her before walking away. 

The writer then sees the artist in one of her many bohemian chic outfits sharing laughs with her friends. The blonde notices her in the distance and excuses herself. They meet half way, the writer and the artist. 

“Hey, you.”  
“Clarke.”  
“Thanks for coming. I wasn’t sure if you’d make it.”  
“This is fascinating, Clarke. You are so gifted.” Heat rushes up the artist’s neck to her cheeks.  
“Thank you.” Lexa looks into her clear eyes, vibrant full of life. She was pleased to see the blonde doing so well.  
“Congratulations! sounds like you’re sticking around for a while, Sky Girl.”  
“Looks that way.” Things were coming together for the artist, she remembers that she’s never lacked anything regardless of how broken she was, she was always whole. “Not so bad, putting down roots.”  
“I’m so happy for you, Clarke.” The blonde smiles and looks away not wanting to get lost in the writer’s gaze.  
“Are you going to Rae’s after? She’s having a thing for me.” The writer already told them she wouldn’t make it as she spent some quality time with Tris. They knew she was hitting the road again and were all very supportive.  
“I can’t tonight.” Clarke was disappointed but tries not to show it. “Actually, I’m going away for a while.” The artist looks up taken by surprise.  
“You are?”  
“Yeah, I need some time to recover from… everything.”  
“Right, sure” the blonde nods in agreement to ward off her chagrin. “We could all benefit from a hiatus.”  
“Um, I have something for you.” She pulls out the letter and hands it to her. “I didn’t want to leave without-”  
“How long this time?”  
“Um, I don’t know.”  
“Promise you won’t shut me out.”  
“I promise. I have a phone you know, and I know how it works now, thanks to you.” The blonde smiles.  
“Good, I’m always here for you.”  
“I know, same. I love you, Clarke” she says pulling the artist in for a hug. Lexa take a deep breath and envelops herself in the blonde’s essence, to take with her.  
“I love you too.”

The writer leaves her people and Clarke in the gallery, ready to face the unknown. She mounts her motorcycle, takes one last glance in their direction, before riding out into the distant horizon. Clarke considers reading the letter, but changes her mind leaving it in the envelope. She enjoys the rest of her night with her friends and family, she was whole again. She sees them and smiles overwhelmed with love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the end, folks!  
> Book II of the series with the promised Clexa happy ending is on its way.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!  
> I'm so grateful to be able to share this with all of you :-)


End file.
